Shine Your Light
by vanpatt5
Summary: When Lindsey's best friend moves to New York, she shines a whole new light on Mac's world. Mac/OC, slight DL
1. Greetings From New York

This is a b-day present for Boston (and I guess America-Happy 4th!) Also, this is a Mac/OC story, but Mac is not in this first chapter, but be patient, he'll come in the next chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

"You're lucky that I love you. Man, I hate airports. Too many stupid people in such a small space. Hey, watch it!" Danny Messer yelled at the guy who had just bumped into him. He turned around and glared at his girlfriend, Lindsey Monroe, who just smiled sweetly at him.

"Hold your horses. Her plane just arrived, so she should be here any minute. And didn't I tell you that I would make it up to you later?" Lindsey cocked her eyebrow suggestively.

"It better involve red lingerie."

"Actually, I was thinking no lingerie," Lindsey whispered as she leaned up to kiss Danny on the lips.

"What is it with you and making out in airports?" Danny and Lindsey broke apart and whirled around to face the speaker.

"Boston!"

"Lindsey!" Both girls ran to each and hugged while laughing loudly.

"Wow, no one would ever guess that you two were sorority sisters." Danny mumbled walking up to the girls.

Lindsey rolled her eyes, "Danny this is Boston. Boston this is Danny."

"Nice to meet ya. So, what is this about Lindsey making out in airports?" Danny asked as he grabbed Boston's luggage and the three headed out to hail a taxi.

"Well, this one time in Cancun, Lindsey was –"Boston was cut off when Lindsey drove her elbow into her rib. "Hey! That hurt! I bruise easily."

"Okay, A) you do not bruise easily. And B) if you tell Danny the Cancun story, I will be forced to tell him about the Vegas trip of 2001." With her hands on her hips, Lindsey sent a glare in Boston's direction.

Boston contemplated whether or not to continue on with the story, but seeing as how what little she did remember of the Vegas trip involved fishing in the Bellagio fountain, she decided against it. "Fine," she sighed as they all piled into the awaiting cab. "Let's try and stay on more family friendly topics, like how Brooke got knocked up!"

As the girls went on to gossip and catch up, Danny took the opportunity to examine the girl next to Lindsey. Even in her worn in blue jeans, old University of Montana t-shirt, and squared framed glasses, he could tell that the girl was a knockout. Most importantly, Danny was just glad that Lindsey would have a good, non-work, friend in the city. The two of them could go shopping and go to those girlie plays that he would never be caught dead in and that were hard to coordinate with her work friends. To be perfectly honest, Danny was also happy to introduce some new blood into their usual group. From what Lindsey had told him, Boston seemed like an amazing lady and Danny got the feeling that everything was about to change.

A/N: As I stated above, this is a birthday gift for a friend, but I'm not sure if I like her enough to continue on. We'll see how it goes. I know it was short, but thanks for reading!


	2. Meeting Boston

A/N: Thanks to **shane vanson, KickassScot, Blaze709, **and **LilyRianneEvans **for reviewing! You all are amazing! Sorry for the long wait. This chapter is kind of cheesy, but I hope you like. Anything in italics is Mac's thoughts.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Mac could think of twenty other tasks that he should be doing and yet here he was, standing outside of Sullivan's gaining the energy to open the door. It wasn't like he didn't like the group he worked with. The exact opposite was true, but it was tough to be the boss and Mac couldn't quite stop himself from imaging the stack of memos and reports that were covering his desk waiting for his approval. But it was important to Lindsey that everyone meet tonight to be introduced to her best friend. For the last month all anyone at the lab had heard about was Boston.

_Oh well, it's just one night and both Lindsey and Stella would kill me if I stayed at work_, Mac sighed as he pushed open the heavy door to reveal the slightly dingy bar. He instantly spotted his party and smiled lightly as he watched Danny gesturing wildly as he retold a story. Quickly scanning the table, Mac noticed that the new girl wasn't there. Feeling slightly irked, he walked over to the table and took up an empty seat between Stella and Hawkes.

"Hey Mac! I'm glad you could make it. I was worried you weren't going to show," Lindsey slid a glass and a pitcher of beer towards Mac.

"Thanks. Where's your friend?" Mac asked as he savored the first taste of the beer.

"She had a dinner for her new job so that she could meet her new coworkers. She should be here any minute. I'm really excited for y'all to meet her, especially you Mac," Lindsey smiled.

"Oh, jeez," Danny rolled his eyes dramatically. "Not this again."

"Why me?" Mac cocked his eyebrow.

"I just think that you two will get along."

"Why Miss Monroe, are you trying to set up the boss man?" Flack leaned forward in his chair as if he was interrogating a suspect.

"What? No!" Lindsey stammered and blushed. "I just thought that, you know, that – oh, look, Boston's here! Boston!" Lindsey practically jumped out of her seat waving her arms at the doorway.

Mac turned around in his seat and looked at the woman who was gliding toward their table. She was wearing a red, knee length dress and Mac took a second to let his slide down her legs, then back up to take in her shoulder length brown hair and green eyes. His heart didn't skip a beat and he didn't feel butterflies his stomach. But, then she smiled and Mac knew he was done for. He must have had a goofy expression on his face because Stella nudged him, giving him an all-knowing smile and Lindsey winked awkwardly at him.

"Hey, I'm Boston," the woman said as she sat in the only empty seat left, directly across from Mac. She smiled brightly at Mac and he couldn't help but smile back.

An hour later, Mac could tell that his three beers had begun to work as he was felling looser. He could also tell that the more he got to know Boston, the more he wanted to know her.

"So, the million dollar question that we are all dying to know: What's with the name?" Flack asked as he poured himself another drink.

"My dad is a huge Red Sox fan, so me and all my siblings have Red Sox names," Boston shrugged. She had obviously been asked this question before.

"You're kidding, right?" Mac could not believe this and had to laugh.

Hearing his laugh caused Boston to smile. "I really wish I was. Boston isn't that bad of a name. It could be something lame like Montana," Boston smiled sweetly and sent a wink toward Danny.

"Everyone's a comedian," Danny mumbled, slumping lower in his seat.

"Where's your new job?" Stella asked, ignoring Danny.

"I'm the new Curator of History at the Ellis Island Historical Museum."

"I didn't realize that there was an Ellis Island Historical Museum," Hawkes said leaning forward in his chair, clearly interested.

"There's not. It opens in a few months and the guy I'm replacing took a job at the Met. Does anybody want another drink?" Boston asked as she scooted her chair away from the table and stoop up.

"Yeah, I'll take a Long Island Ice Tea. Mac can help you!" Lindsey said slightly too eagerly.

"Ummm…no. That's okay. I can get – " Boston was cut off by Lindsey's screeches.

"No! You're wearing a dress!"

"And that means I can't carry a drink?" Boston scrunched her face.

"Just let Mac help you!" Lindsey huffed.

"Okay." Boston through up her hands, "You're insane."

"She's insane," Boston whispered to Mac as they made their way towards the bar.

"You know Lindsey. Once she gets her mind set on something, she won't let it go." Mac glanced over at Boston. He hoped that she was not too uncomfortable with Lindsey's obvious plan to set them up. Mac did not understand what Lindsey was thinking. It was clear that Boston was way out of his league. She was young, beautiful, intelligent, and funny. And here he was an old, serious, workaholic, widower. There was no way that she would ever go for a guy like him.

All of sudden Mac felt Boston touch his arm. Her hand was soft and warm and sent chills up his spine. It had been so long since any woman, besides Stella, had touched him and he had not realized how much he missed being touched. Mac glanced down at Boston's hand on his arm and then looked up. Both Boston and the bartender were looking at him strangely.

"Are you okay, Mac?" The way that she said his name caused something to stir within him.

_I am going insane! I shouldn't be feeling this way, I just meet her. I need to regain control of my emotions. We will never happen,_ Mac thinks.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just zoned out for a second," Mac said wringing his hands.

"Do you want anything to drink?"

"Yeah, I'll have a whiskey and coke." Mac wasn't usually a big drinker, but he felt something harder was in order.

As the two waited for the bartender to mix their drinks, Boston looked over at Mac. "So, Lindsey tells me that you play bass? How long have you played?"

"Yeah, my dad taught me to play when I was growing up. Now I play every Wednesdays at a jazz club," Mac said ripping up a napkin.

"I always wanted to play an instrument as a kid."

"Why didn't you take lessons?"

"We were allowed to do one activity and I chose soccer."

"Do you regret it?" Mac asked turning to look at Boston for the first time.

"Not for a second. I love soccer. I played all through college and had plans to move to Europe to play professionally," Boston said.

"Why aren't you still playing?" Mac asked, truly interested.

"I was in a car accident right after college graduation. My knee got messed up, and that ended all my hopes of playing professionally. I still try to play pickup games regularly. I'm hoping that there is a league here in the city that I can play on," Boston smiled. Mac could tell that she was passionate about soccer and still had a tough time talking about the accident. But, he found hope in the fact that she did not give up completely on the sport.

"I'm sure that somewhere in the city there is a league," Mac commented as the bartender finished their drinks. As the two made their way back to the table, Mac tried to shake the feeling that was creeping up in his body. It had been so long since he had felt this way, but Mac also knew that only disappoint would follow because a romance was just in his cards.

A/N: So, I said earlier that this story is for a friend named Boston and the story about her name is true. All of her siblings have names related to the Red Sox. It is awesome. Thanks for reading!


	3. Breakfast in the Big Apple

A/N: Wow, look at my speedy posting! Thanks to **kaidiii and Blaze709 **for reviewing! You two are my favorite! I'm not sure when I will post another chapter, but I'll do my best to make it quick. This is a weird chapter. I'm not sure if I like it, but thanks for reading anyway.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

"I will have the…ummm…French toast with scrambled eggs. And extra powder sugar and a chocolate milk. Thanks," Boston said as she handed the menu to the waitress. It was her first day of work and Boston had decided that going out for breakfast might help calm her nerves.

To say that Boston was stressed would be the understatement of the century. Not only was she starting a new job, but she was also living in a new city and still had to unpack most of her apartment. To top it off, Boston could not stop thinking about a certain detective. It could have been his stoic silence or the way that he obviously cared about his employees, but Boston could not help but feel drawn to Mac. He seemed so strong and she had no doubt that he could keep her safe from anything. And then there was his smile and laugh. Boston had a new mission in life: to make Mac Taylor laugh. There was just something about it that instantly made her happier. No matter what the reason, there was no denying the fact that Boston was attracted to Mac.

"Hey, mind if I join you?" Boston was lurched out of her thoughts. She had been so deep in thought that she had not noticed someone walk up to her. When she looked up her eyes met Mac's.

"Mac. Hey," Boston smiled softly. This was officially her new favorite restaurant. "I would love to have your company. Do you come here often?"

Mac laughed, "Occasionally." Just then the waitress returned with their food.

"Hey, Mac. I saw you walk in, so I placed your order for you. Hope that's alright," the waitress said as she placed a bowl of oatmeal in front of Mac.

"That's great. Thanks Lily," Mac gave the waitress a smile and turned back to Boston who was looking at him skeptically.

"Occasionally? Mac, the waitress knew your order," Boston laughed, pouring extra powdered sugar on her French toast.

"Okay, okay. I come here almost every morning. It's on my jogging route. Why'd you decide to come here?" Mac asked as he dug into his breakfast.

"It's close to my apartment. And I thought I could use a little pick-me-up."

"Are you nervous about work?" Mac asked.

"I wouldn't say nervous. I think terrified is a much better way to phrase it." Mac frowned , so Boston continued. "It's just that, I'm so much younger than most museum professionals, so I know I am going to have to work crazy hard just to prove I'm worthy. Add in the fact that I am in a new city where I don't know anybody, and I would say that I am scared out of my mind."

"You know Lindsey. And now you know me. I know that I just met you, but somehow I think that you will be just fine. You don't seem like the type of person who just lets people walk all over her. I _know_ that you will do fantastic at work and all your coworkers will be eating out of your hands in no time. I believe in you," Mac confessed, looking away shyly. For some reason, just knowing that Mac believed in her made Boston feel fearless. She felt that she could do anything.

"That's sweet Mac. I feel a lot better knowing that someone thinks I can do a good job," Boston lightly touched his hand as she said this. She liked the way his hands felt. They were warm and rough from years of hard work, but Boston knew that Mac would have a gentle touch. Their eyes met for a few seconds, but they were interrupted when the waitress returned with more coffee. The two ripped their eyes away from each other and Boston started adding more powdered sugar to her French toast.

"Do you want some French toast with that powered sugar?" Mac laughed.

"Funny. I don't like syrup, so I just pile on loads of sugar. It's good, want a bite?" Boston cut off a piece and held up the fork for Mac to take.

Mac shook his head, "No thanks. I'll stick to my sugar-free oatmeal."

"Your loss. It's really good." She ate the bit of French toast herself and smiled.

"Oh, that reminds me. I did a little research and found a couple of soccer leagues that are here in the city. They all meet in Central Park on different days, so you should be able to find one that fits with your schedule." Mac handed a piece of paper to Boston. On it, in Mac's neat handwriting, were the names, numbers, and times when they met for nine different soccer leagues. Boston was so touched that Mac would take the time to find this all out for her. It was so incredibly thoughtful that Boston just stared at him without saying anything.

Growing uneasy under her stare Mac quickly added, "There are more teams than that. It's just a starting point. Did I over step some sort of boundary. I wasn't trying to intrude, I just thought – " he was cut off by Boston.

"No! This is so nice. I just can't believe you went to all this trouble for me. Here I am, new to the city, and you make such an effort to make me feel comfortable. I really appreciate it Mac," Boston smiled.

"I just want you to love this city as much as I do," Mac stated shyly.

"I think I'm beginning to."

Before Mac could respond, his cell phone rang. He answered it, giving Boston an apologetic smile and quickly hung up. "I have a case. It was really nice having breakfast with you." Mac stood up and threw down enough of money to cover both their meals and Boston looked up at him quizzically. "My treat. Consider it a little Good Luck Breakfast."

"Thanks Mac. I really appreciate everything." Boston stood and gave Mac a light hug. She tried to ignore how secure and warm his arms were and how perfectly they fit together. They pulled apart and made their way to the door.

"Good luck today. I know you'll knock 'em dead," Mac gave Boston a light pat on her shoulder.

Boston smiled, "Thanks. I'll see you later." She turned to walk in the direction of the museum, but turned when she heard Mac call her name.

"Ummm…if you're not busy on Wednesday, I play at a jazz club on 93rd called Cozy's. You should come… if you want," Mac stammered.

Boston smiled brightly, "I'll definitely be there." As Boston continued her trek to work, she suddenly had the feeling that it was going to be a very good day.

A/N: I have no idea where Cozy's would be located, so I just made it up. Like I said above, I'm not sure if I like this chapter, it seems very out of character. We will see how the next chapter goes. Thanks for reading!


	4. A Little New York Persuasion

A/N: Thanks for reviewing: **KickassScot, kaidiii, Sini, Dragon of Ice and Light, and Blaze709 **(thanks for the input!). It's amazing how a review really brightens up my day. I will try and update soon. The italics are Mac's thoughts.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

_What am I doing? I have completely lost my mind. First I look up those stupid soccer leagues for her and then I ask her to come to Cozy's. What is wrong with me? I can't be in a relationship. I'm tired of being hurt. First Claire died, which technically wasn't her fault, but I still got hurt from that. And then Peyton left me. I am NOT going to get into another relationship just to be hurt. … But then again, I don't regret one second of my relationship with Claire. Just being with her for the small time that we were together was worth all the pain that I suffered. And I really don't regret being with Peyton. Maybe the chance of pain is worth it. … NO! I can't do this. I'll just call and cancel. I'll say I got busy. … I can't call and cancel. I'll look like such a jerk. Plus, I do like her. … No! I just met her. I can't like her. I don't even know her. She could be some psycho for all I know. What if I let her in and then she ends up being crazy and breaks my heart. I don't think I could take that. That settles it. I am going to call and cancel. And stop eating at that diner. Yeah, that's what I'll do. She won't even have the chance to get in. I won't let myself be hurt again._ _...Where am I going to get her phone number?!_

"Mac, are you okay?" Mac jerked his head up from the papers he had been trying to read for the last twenty minutes. He saw Stella standing in the doorway looking at him strangely.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?" Mac said as he busied his hands by shuffling some papers.

"Well, I've been calling your name for the past two minutes and your face was all twitchy." Stella said matter-of-factly, walking farther into the office.

"I was just thinking. … About the case," Mac quickly added as Stella raised her eyebrows.

"About the case. Right. Well, Adam just got those results in. He's in Trace."

As Stella headed out of his office, Mac called out to her, "Stella, do you happen to have Lindsey's friend's phone number?" Mac asked looking everywhere but directly at Stella.

"Boston's?" Mac nodded. "Yeah, I have it. Are you going to ask her out?" Stella asked too eagerly. She walked closer to Mac, smiling a little too brightly for his liking.

"No, I was actually going to cancel some plans." Mac did not want to get into the details, but he had a feeling that Stella would weasel it out of him.

"When did you guys have time to make plans?" Stella asked taking a seat in one of the chairs.

Mac sighed. He did not see how he was going to get out of this. Taking a seat in his own chair, he said, "We happened to see each other at breakfast this morning. I invited her to come to Cozy's on Wednesday but I forgot that I already had other plans. So, I need to call her to cancel. It's really nothing to get worked up about. Now, Adam is waiting for us."

Mac got up and was almost to the door before Stella got up and walked towards him. "You're going to have to move on sooner or later. Sometimes the risk of getting hurt is worth the reward of being loved. I just want you to be happy, Mac. You were different when you were with Claire and Peyton. You were a better man when you with them. I miss _that_ Mac," Stella said softly as she walked out leaving Mac all alone in his office.

_I miss _that_ Mac too. But _that_ Mac always leaves and destroys _this_ Mac's heart._

--

"Hey, Mac. Flack's just picked up our suspect. He should be here in a half an hour," Lindsey said from the doorway of the Mac's office.

"Thanks," Mac mumbled barely glancing up from his computer. After a few seconds, Mac noticed that Lindsey was still standing there. She was biting her lip and looked as if she was having an inner debate. "Is there anything else, Lindsey?"

"Ummm… Well, it's not really my place and it may be completely inappropriate to say anything to you, but I just…I just really hope that you will give Boston a chance. I know that you have some commitment issues, but she's worth it, Mac. I'm not saying that you have to go run over and confess your undying love for her. Just, get to know her, and then see if you still want to back out. Boston's been through a lot in her life, and it really takes a lot for her to let people in. But, I can tell that she feels something for you. And I'm pretty sure that you feel something for her, too. Just, please, give her a shot."

Mac stayed silent and Lindsey took this to mean that she had overstepped a boundary. She was right in the middle of a rushed apology when Mac looked up and smiled. "It's okay, Linds. I appreciate you being honest with me and I'll take what you said into consideration. Will you call me when Flack arrives?"

"Yeah," Lindsey smiled as she made her way out of Mac's doorway and down the hall.

_What is it with the women of this lab today? They act as if I'm emotional crimpled. I'm just a little hesitant when in it comes to romance and I'm not ready yet. I'll just give her a call at work and let her know I have other plans._

With that thought, Mac picked up the phone and dialed the museum. He hoped that Boston would be okay with him calling her at work seeing as Stella never gave him her number.

"Ellis Island Historical Museum, this is Laura speaking. How may I help you?" The perky receptionist answered the phone on the first ring.

"Yes, can I please speak to Boston…ummm…Boston, she's the Curator of History. I don't know her last name. This is Mac Taylor, she should know who I am." Mac could not remember the last time that he had felt so stupid. _How do I not know her last name?_

"Oh! Waters. Her name is Boston Waters. Give me a second Mr. Taylor," the receptionist was quickly replaced with cheesy music that Mac listened to for a few minutes.

Not soon enough, Boston's cheerful voice came over the line, "Hey, Mac. How's it going?"

"Hey. It's been fine. I was just calling to talk to you about Wednesday night." It was now or never.

"Yeah, I'm pretty excited. I've never really listened to jazz music before, but I can't wait to see you play. You must be pretty awesome to play regularly at a club." And with that short statement Mac knew that he couldn't cancel with her. _Maybe Stella and Lindsey are right. I can just get to know her. It doesn't mean that I have to marry the girl. What is one night going to hurt?_

"It's the rest of band that is good, not me. But, we usually start playing at 9, so if you come around 8:30 you'll have time to get a seat and a drink." Stella walked into Mac's office as he said the last part. She gave him a cheery smile and a thumbs up. Mac just slumped lower in his chair whirling around so he facing the window.

"Great! I'll be there at 8:30. You better go practice because I am expecting quit the show, Mac Taylor," Boston laughed.

"Well, I'll try not to disappoint. I'll see ya then," Mac smiled as he twisted around to hang up the phone. Stella cocked her eyebrow.

"So…was that Boston?" Not waiting for an answer she pressed on, "I see that you didn't cancel. Does that mean you're giving it a chance."

"Not that it's any of your business, but no, I'm not giving it a chance because there is _nothing_ to give a chance. She just moved here and doesn't know the city or anybody. Inviting her to Cozy's is just a friendly gesture," Mac huffed as he got up from his desk and put on his suit jacket.

Stella was not buying it and winked at him, "Sure, Mac. Just a friendly gesture." She made her way to the door and turned back to face back. She smiled lightly and patted him on the shoulder, whispering, "I'm proud of you."

_Women._

A/N: I hope you guys like it! I figured that Mac would need some convincing. Thanks for reading!


	5. All That Jazz

A/N: Thanks for reviewing: **KickassScot, mjels, Sini, kabwnb, godsgracie12, and Blaze709**. This was a hard chapter to write, and I have mixed feelings about it. But, thanks for waiting and reading. The italics are Boston's thoughts.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Boston.

There was something about New York that had already grasped Boston's heart. As she sat in an outside café Wednesday afternoon waiting for Lindsey and Stella, she could not help but marvel at its beauty. It was so different from all the places that she had lived in. Unless you were in Central Park, there was not much grass or many trees and there were no mountains. It was just concrete and people. And yet, Boston found it just as breathtaking as Montana. She had always loved the summer and was glad that Stella had chosen this quirky outdoor coffee shop to gather at. She was delighted that she had Lindsey and she had already become fast friends with Stella. Boston had had a stressful day at work and was grateful when Stella had offered this reprieve. She was sitting outside in the café's balcony and was contemplating whether she needed new soccer cleats when she saw Lindsey and Stella walking towards her with their drinks. She waved lightly and smiled as they both took a seat.

"Did you wear _that_ to work?" Lindsey asked without greeting Boston.

Boston smiled and sarcastically replied, "Hello to you, too. My day was great. Thanks for asking. Hey Stella."

Lindsey rolled her eyes, "Hi Boston! How was your day?" Without waiting for an answer Lindsey continued on, "Did you wear that to work?"

Stella and Boston exchanged glances. "No, I didn't wear this. I'm wearing shorts and flip flops. Do you actually think I wore this to work?"

"I was just making sure. I'm being a friend," Lindsey smiled sweetly, swirling the straw in her drink.

"Somehow I don't feel better knowing that," Boston said with a straight face.

"Speaking of friends, I heard you and Mac were going out on a date tonight." Stella was hoping to get an idea of how Boston felt about Mac. She could tell that Mac liked Boston, but she just wanted to make sure that Boston felt something too. The last thing that Mac needed was to have his heart broken again, and Stella felt it was her duty as his friend to protect him.

Boston squirmed under Stella's glance. "I don't think it's a date. Mac is just being nice. I'm sure he has asked you two to go see him play lots of times."

Lindsey and Stella looked at each other and then turned to stare at Boston. "I've known Mac for years and he has never once asked me to see him play. I know that he plays and sometimes I will stop by, but he has never asked me to. In fact, I think he hates it when I watch. It probably makes him nervous," Stella replied taking a sip of her drink.

"I found out on my own and took Danny to listen to him. That's the only time," Lindsey said.

"Oh." There was nothing else that Boston could come up with. _Does Mac really consider this a date? It didn't seem like he was asking me out. I think he just wants to make me comfortable. I wouldn't mind if it was a date. He's pretty hot, but he seems so hesitant._

Stella sat up straighter in her chair and looked at Boston. "The thing about Mac is that he is super cautious when it comes to his heart. I'm going to leave it up to him to tell you why, but just know that he may need time. It's not that he doesn't feel something for you, because he does, it's just that he wants to make sure that you feel something too and won't crush him. He'll come around eventually, just be patient."

Boston didn't respond. She could definitely respect Mac's cautiousness. It wasn't as if she was running head first into romance. Boston had been burned a couple of times and wanted to lay low for a while. But, if something more grew with Mac, she would not hesitate. She decided that Mac could set the pace for whatever was developing between them.

"So, what are you going to wear? Flip flops and shorts?" Lindsey mocked.

"Sometimes I hate you," Boston smiled.

--

Boston stole a moment to give herself one last onceover before she pulled the door open. Inside, Cozy's seemed to be everything that she had imagined. There was a bar and lots of tables and chairs set around a good sized stage. The place was comfortably busy, and Boston had to nudge her way through the crowd, towards the bar. She ordered a drink and then turned around to try and find Mac. She finally spotted him sitting in a booth with a couple of other people. He must have noticed her, too, because they locked eyes and he gestured for her to join them. When Boston was closer, Mac stood and met her half way.

"Hey! I'm glad you could make it." Mac had to lean in close to Boston's ear to be heard over the music. He put his hand on her back to guide her over to the booth. "You look beautiful, by the way." With Stella and Lindsey's advice, Boston had chosen to wear her best pair of blue jeans, a dark blue blouse, and black heeled boots.

Boston blushed, from both the compliment and the warmth of Mac's hand on her back. "Thanks. You don't look to shabby yourself. Sorry I'm late. I didn't leave myself enough time to make it here. New York traffic is crazy."

"Yeah, you'll learn to always allow yourself extra time. Or take the subway," Mac removed his hand when they reached the table and gestured for Boston to sit down first. "Guys, this is Boston. 

Boston this is Jason, Dale, and Jack. They're in the band, too." Mac took a seat next to Boston, sitting just a little too close than was necessary.

Boston tried to ignore the warmth that was radiating from Mac and focus on making conversation. "It's so nice to meet you. Is it always this busy?"

"Usually. What can I say, I have quite the reputation," Dale joked as he popped his collar.

Boston burst out laughing. "I'm sorry…that was just…so…lame!" she managed to say between giggles. All the guys joined in her laughing, even Mac.

"Wow, I like you already," Jason said once he had controlled his laughter.

A middle aged man suddenly appeared at the table, "Sorry to interrupt, but you guys are almost on." Jack, Dale, and Jason followed the man and Mac stood up next to the table.

"Okay… Do you need anything?" Mac asked taking another swig of his drink, glancing around the room and then back at Boston.

"Nope, I'm good. I'm so excited! You're going to kick ass!" She laughed, moving around the table to get a better view of the stage.

"Thanks. I'll see you after the show?" Mac leaned down slightly to be heard over the noise.

"Definitely. Now go, your band is beckoning you."

--

"Mac Taylor! You are a rock star! You guys were amazing. And did you see that one lady! She was rocking out. I never knew someone could get so worked up over jazz music, but man, did she ever. Did she flash you?" Boston was currently rocking forward in her boots, unable to control her excitement. Mac had played wonderfully and it was while watching him that Boston realized she had a thing for musicians. There was a just a way that he sat with the bass, his fingers gingerly strumming away as a light smile played on his face. Boston thought she had never seen anyone look more beautiful than Mac had right then.

The rest of the band had already packed up their instruments and left with much of the crowd. Boston was standing close to the stage and Mac was kneeled over his bass case putting it away. "That was actually Jason's wife. She's our only groupie," Mac said glancing up towards Boston throw his eyelashes. A grin and suggestive look plastered on his face.

"Well, now you have two groupies. I'll even flash you, if you want. The two of us could start a mosh pit. Or we could make t-shirts that say, 'I heart Jason,' and, 'Mac is my homeboy.'" Boston threw her head back and laughed loudly.

"Well, at least you have a plan if the whole museum-thing doesn't work out," Mac smiled shaking his head lightly as Boston continued to howl. By the time Boston had regained her composure, Mac had finished putting away his stuff.

"Do you want a ride home?" Mac asked grabbing the case with one hand and putting his other on the small of Boston's back, guiding her out to the street.

"I would love one if its – " Boston was cut off by the ringing of Mac's phone. He groaned as he looked at the message. "Work?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry." It was obvious that Mac felt horrible. _It's not like he can control when people get murdered. He shouldn't feel bad._

"Don't. It's fine, I'll just take a cab. You go and fight crime," Boston touched Mac's hand lightly as he waved for a taxi. Instead of letting it go, Mac grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently. They looked at each for a second before a cab rolled up. Letting go of her hand, Mac opened up the door and waited for Boston to get in.

"Thanks Mac. I had a lot of fun tonight," Boston tapped Mac's arm on last time and moved into the backseat.

"I had a great time, too. We should do it again." Mac smiled and shut the door of the cab. Inside, Boston looked down at her hand and could still feel the warmth and tingle from where Mac had held it. _That went well. Maybe he does want something more._

A/N: Thanks for reading!


	6. A Central Park Morning

A/N: Thanks for reviewing: **KickassScot, godsgracie12, and Blaze709. **I really appreciate the reviews and input.Long time, no see. I almost gave up on this story, but within the last week, it seems that more people have started reading it, which is random, but awesome. I will definitely try and update more regularly. FYI: The start of this is them talking to answering machines, just in case it wasn't clear.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Boston.

"Hey, Mac. It's me. Boston. I just wanted to tell you again how awesome last Wednesday was. You were great, and my offer still stands to be a groupie. Every band needs at least two groupies; one is just pathetic. I'm just putting it out there. Anyway, I was just wondering if you wanted to do something this weekend? I mean, only if you don't have to work. If you do have to work, then we could do something later in the week. I mean, only if you want to. No pressure or anything. I think I'm going to hang up now because I'm rambling. Okay, bye Mac."

--

"Hi, Boston. It's Mac. Dale, Jack, and Jason all raved about you. You are welcome back anytime. I agree that we could definitely use more groupies. As for this weekend, I do have it off, and I would love to do something with you. Just let me know."

--

"Mac! I'm starting to think that maybe you're ignoring my calls. Anyway, on Saturday I am going to play soccer in Central Park. I don't know if you like soccer or not, but you are more than welcome to come. The game starts at 10, and it's an all-girls league, so there will be plenty of ladies running around in short-shorts. What more incentive could a man need? Give me a call back. Toodles. I can't believe I just said the word 'toodles.' Okay, bye."

--

"I promise I am not ignoring your calls. I must admit that I have never watched soccer, but I would really like to watch you play. Plus, who could resist all the ladies in short-shorts. How about we have breakfast at the diner together at 8, and then head over to the Park? I have to go, but I'll see you on Saturday. Toodles."

--

"You are a funny, funny man, Mac Taylor. Oh wait. No. No you're not. Soccer is pretty easy to understand, so you shouldn't have much trouble. Breakfast at the diner sounds great. It'll be nice to actually talk to you in person, instead of talking to your answering machine. I will see at 8 on Saturday. Bye."

--

"Mac. It's you! In the flesh," Boston said dramatically plopping down into the booth opposite Mac.

Mac cocked his eyebrow and set his coffee cup down. "Wow. You sure are dramatic and chipper this morning."

"I am _so_ excited to be playing again. And, you know, to see you of course," Boston shrugged the last part.

"Yeah, sure. So, how's work?" Mac asked taking another drink of his coffee.

Boston sighed and crinkled her nose in disgust. Mac looked at her quizzically and added, "That well?"

"I knew when I took this job that it would be hard and demanding, but the people there are just so snotty. They treat me as if I am totally incompetent just because I am young and not a local. I don't want to brag or anything, but I have great credentials and shouldn't they be even more impressed that I got to this position at such a young age?"

"I know I certainly I am. You shouldn't let them get to you. They're probably just jealous and haven't gotten to know you. Just hang in there and prove them wrong. They'll come around."

"Hey Mac. It's good to finally see you with a woman," an older waitress walked up to the table with a pot of coffee. She refilled Mac's cup and started chatting with Boston, "Mac has been coming into this diner for over six years and he has never brought a gal in. We around here had all but given up on Mac ever finding someone special. But, it looks like he finally hit the jackpot. You are so beautiful and the way you two look at each other is so adorable." The waitress paused for a second, as if expecting a response.

"Thank you," Boston mumbled while trying not to burst out laughing. She couldn't look at Mac because she knew that would send her over the edge. Instead, she just gave the waitress her order and tried to regain her composure.

"Wow. I don't even know what else to say. They _know_ you Mac. How often do you come here?" Boston asked.

"Umm…pretty much every day. They're nice people," Mac shrugged, still blushing.

"It's sweet and they obviously care about you. And plus, she said I was beautiful," Boston brushed her hair over her shoulder in a Cher-like fashion causing Mac to laugh. Mac liked how Boston could easily diffuse a situation with her humor. She was one of the few people who could make him relax, and relaxation was something that Mac could definitely use more of.

"So, how's your work?" Boston asked taking a sip of juice.

"Busy. It seems like this city is going crazy," Mac shook his head.

Boston smiled lightly, "But you love it."

"Yeah. I do." Mac looked up from his coffee cup and met Boston's eyes.

"I must admit that I am a little nervous that you are going to be watching me. It's something that I'm not used to."

"You're not used to people watching you play?" Mac asked frowning.

"Up until I got into college, nobody really came to my games. Don't get me wrong, my family would come to the big, championship games, but other than that I was on my own," Boston turned her gaze to her juice, absentmindedly swirling her straw.

Mac couldn't believe that her parents didn't go her games. Boston could read the anger on his face. "Don't misunderstand, Mac. My parents are awesome, but they had six other kids to take care of. And since I was capable of taking care of myself, I did. They couldn't afford to come to every single one of my soccer games, when we were all in activities. They did the best they could and I turned out okay."

_You turned out better than okay_, Mac thought. Instead he said, "You have great respect for them."

Boston nodded, "I had a great childhood with lots of good memories. Can't argue with that."

Just then their meal arrived, and the conversation dwindled until Mac couldn't help but ask, "What happened when you got to college?" Boston stopped mid-chew and gave him a funny look. "You said that people came to watch you play once you went to college. What happened? Who was watching you?"

"Well, I rushed a sorority and met Lindsey. They came to most of my home games. Actually, Lindsey came to every single home match. She's that kind of person. I'm not going to lie, it was nice having someone routing for you; someone waiting for you after the game to tell you that you did well, win or lose." Boston and Mac both smiled.

"Ya ready?" Mac asked wiping his mouth one last time.

"Yep," Boston jumped up from the table, grabbing the check. Mac was going to object, but she was halfway to the cashier by the time he realized what happened.

"I was going to pay," he told her once they met outside. He quickly grabbed the duffel bag that she was carrying and pushed her lightly towards Central Park letting his hand rest on the small of her back longer than necessary.

Boston chuckled, "Well, if it makes you feel better, they didn't make me pay. They said that such a pretty lady should never have to pay. And that I deserved a metal for bringing you outta your shell." She looked up at Mac just in time to notice the color settle into his cheeks.

"You know what I love most about New York?" Boston asked lightly nudging Mac in the side.

"What?" he asked clearly amused.

"I love that you can just walk down a street and find a complete meal. You never even have to step into a building. It's amazing!" Boston said jumping a little.

"That is one of New York's selling points," Mac laughed.

"I'm serious, Mac. Nowhere else can you find so many street vendors. When I was seven I tried to sell popsicles out on the street and I barely evaded going to jail."

"What?"

"Well, apparently I had set up my stand in a non-business zone, and the officer demanded that I shut down."

"I'm going to guess that you didn't take that well."

"You know me too well, Mac. I tried to argue but the officer just wouldn't listen. So, I did the only thing natural and threw the remaining popsicles at him. And then I ran home."

Mac couldn't help but laugh. _Memo to self: never piss her off when she's around popsicles_.

"Did you get caught?" he asked setting the duffel bag down on one of the bleachers that surrounded the soccer field.

"Of course. I grew up in a town of 300 in the middle of Nebraska and the officer was my cousin. I had to mow his lawn for the entire summer just to pay for his dry cleaning bill. It sucked," Boston laughed while putting on her soccer cleats.

"Did you learn our lesson?"

"I guess. I never threw food at a police officer again."

"Have you thrown any other objects at an officer?" Mac asked with a slightly worried expression.

"That, my friend, is a story for another time. I need to go warm up." Mac noticed that her face turned to one of focus and slight nerves.

"I'm expecting quite the show, Boston Waters," Mac called as she started to walk away.

Boston turned around grinning, "I'll try not to disappoint, Detective." And with that she turned back again and jogged towards her team, leaving Mac smiling and thinking, _I could get used to this_.

A/N: Thanks for reading!


	7. A Central Park Afternoon

A/N: Thanks for all the wonderful reviews: Rossi's Lil Devil, BlueEyedAuthor, godsgracie12, iheartcsinewyork, aussietasha, mjels, and Blaze709. I hope you all like this chapter. I'll try and update this weekend, but we all know I don't have a great track record. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Boston.

--

Mac knew that he was far too old to be thinking that a girl was hot. He wasn't a hormonal teenage boy anymore and he should be above getting turned on by watching a bunch of girls running around, but that was exactly what was happening. Well, actually, it was just one girl that Mac was enjoying watching running around. Just the way that her body moved and twisted was graceful and beautiful, and yet also a thing of power.

It wasn't just the fact that Boston was hot. If Mac was honest with himself, he had been skeptical about watching a soccer match. He had never had any interest before in the game and didn't really understand the rules. Yet, here he was really getting into the game. He got excited whenever Boston scored and was starting to hate number 22 on the opposing team who had knocked Boston down four times. Before he knew it, the game was over and Boston was jogging towards him.

"Hey. Thanks," Boston said as she grabbed the towel that Mac was holding out.

"You did really well. I'm quite impressed."

Boston glanced up at Mac and smiled, "Thanks. It felt really good to be playing again. There are some really good girls out there."

"Boston," Mac grabbed her hand and made her look him in the eye. "You held your own and were amazing. You should be proud."

"Thanks, Mac. I would give you a hug, but I'm all sweaty."

"I wouldn't mind," Mac said shyly.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Boston smiled leaning in to give Mac a hug. They pulled apart after a few moments and both tried to ignore the feeling that was washing over them. Boston started changing her shoes and shoving stuff into her bag.

"Do you want to get some lunch? We could even go to a street vendor," Mac asked while, once again, grabbing the bag from Boston.

She just rolled her eyes and responded, "Lunch would be good, but let's go somewhere with walls. Do you mind if we stop by my place first so I can take a quick shower?"

"That's fine. Where do you live?"

"Right over there," Boston pointed to a building across from the Park.

"How? Those places are millions of dollars. I never realized museum curators made so much money," Mac said genuinely shocked.

"I wish I made that much. From what Lindsey has said, I make even less than you guys. But the museum's main financier owns the building and lets me live there at a significantly reduced rate."

"Do you realize how lucky you are?" Mac said shaking his head.

"Believe me, Danny, Lindsey, and Stella have made it quite clear that I should not be taking this for granted. They've also made me promise to have a house warming party." Boston waved to the door man and walked towards the elevator.

"Do you live in the Penthouse, too?" Mac asked with a straight face.

"Don't be a smartass," she said pushing the nine button.

Mac smirked, "So when is the party?"

"Umm…I'm not sure. It really depends on when y'all are free."

"Well, if you let me know a week or so in advance, I can try and make sure everyone has it off. No promises, but I'll do my best."

"That would be fantastic. Thanks Mac! Here we are. Can I see my bag?" Mac handed over her bag and Boston rummaged through it. Finally she pulled out her keys with a triumphant look. Mac promptly picked the bag up. Boston pushed the door up and mumbled, "And they say chivalry is dead."

Mac laughed and, as he stepped into Boston's apartment, added, "You just ran back and forth across a field for the last two hours. The least I can I do is carry your bag." Mac began to look around as if he was looking for evidence. He noticed that while there were still a few boxes neatly stacked against one of the walls, most of her belongings were already set out. There wasn't a lot of clutter or knick knacks around the room, but there was four large bookcases filled with books, DVDs, and CDs. There were also two dozen or so photos on the entertainment center and hanging on the wall. The room was neat, but clearly lived in and though it was somewhat bare, it still radiated warmth.

When Mac finally turned around to face Boston, she just looked at him with an amused look. "Do you approve?"

"It's nice. I like it."

"Do you want anything to drink?" When Mac shook his head, so Boston continued, "Okay, well, make yourself at home. The kitchen is over there, in case you change your mind. You can watch TV or read, or whatever. Just…make yourself comfortable. I shouldn't be too long." When Mac nodded, she took her bag from him and headed towards her bedroom. It had thoroughly amused her how he had been examining her living room. Oddly, it was also slightly comforting.

Mac heard the water turn on and a bolt went through him. As each day passed, he grew more and more comfortable with his feelings for Boston. He was still hesitant and truly appreciated the fact that Boston seemed content with him setting the pace of their…well whatever they were. He was becoming less and less satisfied with the prospect of just being Boston's friend and knew that he had to, and he wanted to, make a move soon. It was hard though; Mac was never the outgoing, flirty guy. Both Claire and Peyton had chased after him and made the first move. But, he also knew that Boston was too respectful to pressure him, so it was up to him to advance their relationship. Mac was really going to have to step out of his box, but he had a feeling that Boston was worth it.

"Oh my god!" Mac jumped at Boston's screech, his hand instinctually reaching for the gun that normally resided on his hip. He whirled around and relaxed only when he saw Boston on the phone. "He did not!" She met Mac's graze and mouthed the words _Danny proposed_ and pointed to her ring finger. "He kissed you in the rain! That's so sweet. I've always wanted to be kissed in the rain…Yeah, I can definitely make it. Okay, I'll see you tomorrow!" Boston shut her phone and did a little dance, causing Mac to laugh. "That is so awesome. Those two are perfect for each other. Can you believe it?" Boston asked collapsing down on the couch.

Mac moved over to look at some of the pictures on the entertainment center. "I can believe it. Danny asked me a couple of weeks ago for advice. Plus, me and Flack helped him pick out the ring."

When she hadn't responded, Mac turned around. Boston was just looking at him. After a moment, she got up and walked towards Mac. Hugging him she whispered in his ear, "You are a good man, Mac Taylor." They stayed like that for a while, with Mac's hands settled on her hips and Boston gently rubbing small circles on his neck. Mac could smell the flowery scent of her hair and Boston liked how her head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck. They stayed like that until Mac's stomach growled. Boston pulled away laughing while Mac blushed.

"Someone's hungry! Come on, Taylor. Let's get some food in you." Boston quickly collected her purse and grabbed Mac's hand, pulling him towards the door.

--

"Can I ask you something?" Boston asked as they were finishing up lunch.

"I think you just did," Mac smirked.

Rolling her eyes, Boston sighed, "Funny. But seriously, it's kinda personal, so you don't have to answer if you don't want to. It's really none of my business, and I may way out of line, but I'm just curious."

Mac had a feeling he knew what Boston's question was. He had hinted at the fact that he had been married before, and it was about time that they have this conversation. If they were going to have a relationship, Boston should know about Claire. It was only right. "You wanna know about why Danny would ask me for marriage advice." Boston nodded softly, so Mac continued, "I was married before. Her name was Claire and we met back in Chicago before we moved here. She died on 9/11." Mac was closely watching her face for a reaction, but all she did was blink and lick her lips.

A few seconds passed before Boston quietly asked, "What was she like?"

Mac was thrown for a loop. He was not expecting this. Normally when people found out about Claire and how she died, they mumbled their condolences and quickly changed the subject. Nobody, not even Peyton, ever really asked about her. It took Mac a minute to regain his composure. "She was amazing. She was _so_ smart and funny. She didn't put up with any of my crap and would call me out on my behavior. She never took no for an answer and she had this amazing laugh that could put a smile on my face no matter how my day had been going. God, I loved her." They both were silent for a few minutes. Mac was staring out the window and he was glad that Boston was giving him some time. He turned his eyes back to hers and noticed that she was smiling lightly.

"Wanna go for a walk," he asked.

She nodded. "Yeah. … I would."

--

Boston and Mac spent the rest of the day talking and walking around until he got called into work. It was now two in the morning and Boston was jarred awake by the sound of pounding on her door. She put on her sweatshirt and flip flops in between curses and stumbled her way towards the door. Looking through her peephole and noticing only Mac, she gave a sigh of relief and quickly opened the door. He had an unreadable expression on his face and Boston quickly grew worried.

"Mac wha – " Instead of letting her finish, Mac, just grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the elevator. He remained silent the entire ride down, but kept his grip on her.

As he was pulling her towards the outside door, Boston finally protested. "Mac! We can't go out there. It's raining! And the middle of the night! And I'm in my pajamas!"

Mac didn't stop until they were standing in the middle of the sidewalk, already getting soaked. Somewhere far away, thunder clapped and Boston looked up towards the sky, silently counting the seconds until she saw the lightening.

"It's four miles away," she said bringing her eyes back down towards Mac, blinking away the rain drops. He just looked at her with awe, and then he made his move. He brought one hand to her waist and pulled her closer while his other tangled itself in her hair. Just before their lips met, Mac mumbled, "You're beautiful." Boston let her hands run over his neck and through his hair. The kiss was gentle and soft; both were taking things slow.

When they finally pulled away breathless, Boston's eyes fluttered open and she just stared at Mac. Neither said anything for a moment and Mac was beginning to think that he had come to the wrong conclusion. He was in the middle of stammering out an apology when Boston cut him off.

Smiling lightly, she softly said, "I've always wanted to be kissed in the rain."

Mac sighed in relief, "That's funny, because I've always wanted to kiss you." Smiling he bent down again to touch his lips with Boston's.

A/N: So cheesy. Thanks for reading!


	8. Bad Day, Good Night

A/N: Thanks SOOOO much for all the wonderful reviews! (**hope4sall, KickassScot, Bmangaka, iheartcsinewyork, godsgracie12, Blaze709, Rossi's Lil Devil, camilita, and mjels**). This chapter took me _forever _to write, and I am not a big fan of it. So, tell what you all think. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Boston.

--

Mac thought that once he kissed Boston, he would breathe easier. Instead, the exact opposite happened. She had claimed all his thoughts and consumed his dreams. She had given him something to live for, besides work. He counted the minutes until he was with her again, until he could kiss her again. It had been six long days since Mac had pulled Boston outside, and the two of them had only seen each other once. Mac had worked the night shift every day except Wednesday. He had been hoping that she would come to Cozy's, but fate had other plans. A potential financier had unexpectedly flown into town on Wednesday and the Director of the museum had demanded that Boston join them for a late dinner. They had managed to have breakfast together, only to be interrupted thirty minutes into the meal by Flack informing Mac that there was an urgent case. Needless to say, both were immensely frustrated at their lack of contact.

It was now Friday. Boston had taken the day of to help Lindsey plan her wedding and Mac had the night off. He had made it perfectly clear to the Flack that he was only to be called in if the world was ending. Mac had wanted to make their first _real_ date perfect. He wanted something more special and personal than just a regular dinner at a nice restaurant. Boston deserved better than that. He had raked his brain for the last six days trying to put together an unforgettable evening. He had become so desperate that he almost asked Sid for advice, but he didn't think that Sid's idea of romance were the same as his. After much planning and researching, Mac felt confident that he had set up a night that Boston wouldn't soon forget.

--

"Cornflower or powder blue? Such a hard decision. I like the cornflower but maybe it is too blue. But is powder blue too blue blue or just blue enough. What do you think?" Lindsey mumbled, examining each of the color swatches closely. Boston threw her head back and sighed. They had been having this conversation for the last twenty minutes and Boston was about ready to gauge her eyes out.

"Lindsey, they are_ literally_ the exact same color. I love you and I want your wedding to be perfect, but if you ask me one more time which I like or if it is too "blue blue" I will kill you."

"Ya know, now that you're dating a detective, you probably shouldn't threaten to kill someone."

Sending a glare Lindsey's way, Boston grabbed the swatches from her and handed them to the saleswoman. "Thanks for all the help. We're just going to think about it for a while." Then she said to Lindsey, "C'mon. I'm hungry and you owe me lunch."

Once they had ordered their food, Lindsey smiled sweetly at Boston.

Boston sighed heavily, "I hate when you get that look on your face. It means that you're going to ask me to do something that I don't want to do."

"You just don't realize that you want to do it. Anyway, I need to ask for a favor."

"Shocking!"

"Boston, can you just stop being a smartass for five seconds?" Boston rolled her eyes, but remained silent, so Lindsey continued. "Me and Danny want to have a small ceremony in Central Park. We just want friends and immediate family, so about twenty people. Since your apartment is right next to the Park and it can definitely hold that many people. Well… can we please the hold reception at your place?" Lindsey let out a breath and looked down at her plate.

"Yeah, of course you can! It'll be so fun. When you guys decide on a date, just let me know and we can start making the arrangements."

"Well, we're already got a date: next Saturday!"

Boston's eyes bulged out and she started chocking on the chicken strip she had just started chewing.

"Boston! Are you okay?" Lindsey asked slapping her on the back.

"Ouch! Hitting me doesn't actually help." Taking a sip of her pop, she finally gained control of herself, "What do you mean next Saturday? You're going to get married next Saturday?"

"Duh."

"You guys have been engaged for a week. Don't you think you're rushing it a bit?"

"No. We've known each other for a few years now and have been dating for almost a year. We love each other, so why wait?" Boston couldn't believe what she was hearing. Lindsey was normally so level headed and cautious. Now, here she was heading into a shotgun wedding.

"Are you pregnant?" Boston asked. That was the only logical conclusion she could come up with.

"What? No! Shockingly, me and Danny just happen to be in love. Something that you obviously wouldn't know anything about," Lindsey snipped, clearly irritated that her best friend wasn't being supportive.

"Hey now, there's no reason to be rude. I'm your best friend, Linds, and I have to be honest with you. You know that I love you and Danny and I couldn't be happier that you two are getting hitched. I just think you guys need to slow down and take a breathier. You guys are going to be together forever, so what's the rush? Plus, you need to plan a wedding; the wedding of your dreams," Boston looked at Lindsey with pleading eyes, hoping she would understand.

"The only think I care about is that Danny is standing at the end of the aisle. Other than that, I couldn't care less about planning a wedding. Listen, if you don't want to come or have the reception, then that's fine. We're done." Lindsey grabbed her purse and angrily started pulling out money.

"What? That's not what I am saying at all." Boston wasn't sure what was happening. She never meant to make Lindsey mad or hurt her feelings. She just wanted to them to make sure that they were ready for marriage.

"I should have known you would act this way. You are the most selfish person I know. You only do things if they benefit you. I should have never set you up with Mac. He is way too good for someone like you. Look, you two barely know each other and you're already making out with him. It's disgusting. But, pretty soon he'll realize that you're just a slut with commitment issues and he'll leave you like everybody else leaves you," Lindsey snarled.

With a calm face, Boston grabbed her purse and stood up. "Thanks for lunch," she said looking Lindsey straight in the eye. Then she turned around and left, not wanting Lindsey to know how much she had hurt her.

--

It was seven on the dot when Mac knocked on Boston's door. He was nervous, yet excited. It seemed that whenever he was around Boston or thought of her, he turned into a teenage boy. _Well, at least she's keeping me young_, he thought as he knocked on the door again.

Boston answered this time. "Hey Mac," she opened the door wider to let him in. "It'll just be a minute; I can't find my other shoe."

Mac closed the door behind him as Boston went off into what he assumed was her bedroom. He could see that something was wrong, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. It seemed that Boston had lost some of the sparkle in her eyes. "Are you okay?" he called in her general direction.

"Yeah, yeah. It's fine. Just a rough day and now I can't find my damn shoes." Mac was taken aback at the sudden rage in her voice.

"Didn't you spend the day with Lindsey?"

"Yep." Mac heard a crashing sound and ran into Boston's room. He had to bite back his laughter when he saw Boston kneeling in the middle of her closet surrounded by shoes. One of the shelves had obviously fallen off the wall.

"Are you okay?" Mac asked pushing some of the shoes away and kneeling next to her. He quickly looked her over to make sure she wasn't injured. Once he was satisfied that she was okay, he grabbed one of her hands and gave it a squeeze and was rewarded with a gentle squeeze back.

"I'm okay. Really. Me and Lindsey just got into a stupid fight. But it's fine. I'm excited for our date. I'll just put on different shoes," she said already rummaging through the shoes that encircled them.

"Boston, why don't we just stay in? We could order a pizza and watch a movie."

"But haven't you made plans?"

"Nothing that can't postponed. I really don't care what we do, as long as you're by my side." Mac stood up and reached down offering his hand to Boston who gladly accepted it. Once she was standing, she thanked him with a kiss.

--

"The pizza will be here in an hour. Do you want anything to drink? I have beer, pop, milk, or water," Boston called from the kitchen.

"A beer would be good." Mac could hear her padding around the kitchen and it brought him an odd since of comfort. He couldn't care less that all his planning had gone to waste. He knew that he could use his plans for another time and all that really mattered was that he got to spend the night with Boston.

"Here ya go," Boston handed him the beer and plopped down beside him. Mac put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked taking a drink.

"No, I just wanna watch a sappy movie and cuddle with you," Boston said as she snuggled closer to Mac.

"That sounds perfect."

It was shortly after midnight when a knock was made on the door. Boston and Mac pulled apart.

"Were you expecting anyone?" Mac asked, his voice filled with concern.

"Yeah, my other boyfriend was supposed to stop by," Boston rolled her eyes.

"I'm serious." Mac got up and grabbed his piece from the side table. Making his way to the door, he looked through the peephole and sighed with relief. "It's Lindsey. Should I let her in?" Boston contemplated this for a second and Mac could particularly see the emotions playing on her face. Finally she nodded and Mac opened the door.

"Hey Lindsey. Come in."

Lindsey walked in and stood in the middle of the room, looking anyway but at Boston.

"Well, I think I'm going to go. Call me later?" Mac looked at Boston.

"Yeah. Thanks Mac." Boston got up and shut the door behind Mac, giving his hand a quick squeeze. "So…" she turned back around to face Lindsey. Boston could tell that Lindsey had been crying, and she felt a little bit bad.

"I'm so sorry Boston. I didn't mean any of the things I said. I wasn't even talking about you, I was talking about me," Lindsey said in a small voice.

"What do you mean?" Boston asked, walking closer to Lindsey.

"What if Danny realizes that he's too good for me? What if he leaves me like everyone else does? I can't live without him. I love him _so_ much that I couldn't survive if he ever left," Lindsey started sobbing.

Boston wasn't sure what to do. She wasn't good at dealing with situations like this. She had the tendency to make inappropriate jokes or just start laughing. She did the only that seemed natural and pulled her friend into a hug. "Is this about the death of your friends?" When Boston felt Lindsey nod, she continued on, "Linds, that was not your fault. And it's not like they chose to leave you. Danny loves you. It's pretty obvious that he is totally wrapped around your finger. He's not going to leave you. Plus, you're quite the catch. You're smart, funny, out-going, beautiful…oh, wait no, that's me. Sorry."

Lindsey pulled away laughing. She wiped her eyes. "Thanks. I don't know why I'm acting like this."

"Maybe you're pregnant," Boston smirked as she sat back down on the couch.

Lindsey joined her and playfully smacked her in the arm, "I'm not pregnant." It was then that she noticed the empty pizza box and several beer bottles. "Oh, no. Tonight was your guy's date night. I totally ruined it. I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

"You really like him, don't you?"

Boston couldn't fight the smile that formed when she thought about Mac. "Yeah. I do. The more that I get to know him and am around him, the more I want to be around him. It's an evil cycle."

"So cute. I've never seen you like this before," Lindsey grinned.

"Shut up." Boston could feel her cheeks warming and wanted to quickly change the topic, "Wanna watch a movie?"

"Sure, how about _The Notebook_?" Lindsey asked eagerly.

--

_"Taylor."_

Boston smiled when she heard his groggy voice. She knew she should have felt bad about waking him up, but he sounded so cute. "Hey. Sorry I woke you."

_"No, it's fine. Did you and Lindsey get everything straightened out?" _Boston could hear muffled movement and figured that he was sitting up in bed.

"Yeah. She was worried that Danny was going to leave her. I informed her that she was crazy. It's all good now."

_"You're a good friend. Is the wedding still next Saturday?"_

"Yep. And the reception is at my place. Is everyone going to be able to get it off of work?"

_"Danny called earlier about that. Danny, Lindsey, and Flack already have it off and I can get Stella and Sid off, but Hawkes, Adam, and I will have to work. We'll be able to make part of the reception, though."_

"I'm just not sure who I am going to bring as my date."

_"Why don't you invite your other boyfriend?_"

"Good idea."

_"Can we just verify that you're joking."_

Boston laughed, "Yeah, Mac. You're the only one. Wanna go to the wedding as my date?"

It was Mac's turn to laugh, _"I would love to. What are you doing tomorrow? Playing soccer?"_

"Yep. I don't really have any other plans besides that."

_"How about after the game, I fix that shelf of yours?"_

"You're going to come to my game?"

_"I had planned on trying to go to them all, but if you don't want me to come, that's fine too."_

Boston could hear the disappointment in his voice and instantly felt awful about making him feel unwanted. "No, I _do_ want you there."

_"Good. So, I had a good time tonight."_

"Me too. It was the perfect date. It's late Mac; you should get your rest if you're going to be fixing my shelves tomorrow... Wow, _that_ sounded dirty."

Mac laughed, _"Yeah, it did. I'll see tomorrow, 8 at the diner?"_

"Sure, maybe I can get us another free meal. I'll see ya tomorrow. Bye."

_"Bye Boston."_

A/N: The story about the color swatches actually happened to me once. It was awful. Thanks for reading!


	9. Wedding Kisses

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews (au004, KickassScot, hope4sall, Bmangaka, Rossi's Lil Devil, Blaze709, iheartcsinewyork, and godsgracie12), they always brighten up my day. So, I am _so _obsessed with this story and already a few more chapters written, so expect more updates soon! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Boston.

--

Mac had just gotten off an 18 hour shift and all he wanted to do was make out with Boston, eat, and sleep; in that order. But he had a feeling that it wasn't going to happen. It was the day before the wedding and he was supposed to help Boston, Lindsey, and Stella get Boston's apartment ready for the reception before they all had leave for the Bachelor and Bachelorette Parties.

He waved to Boston's doorman, "Hey Marvin. How's your day going?"

The old man smiled and sent Mac a wink, "Probably not as good as yours is going to be. Have fun."

Mac laughed, hoping he wasn't blushing too much. The men had gotten friendly in the last few weeks, and Mac sensed that Marvin looked forward to when he or Boston would walk through the door. They would chat with Marvin for a few minutes before continuing on up to Boston's apartment and it was probably the only conversation the guy got all day.

Once he was inside the elevator, Mac leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. The elevator seemed to take longer than usual and Mac counted the dings until he reached the ninth floor. He dragged himself to Boston's door and gave a light knock. Boston answered quickly and she looked slightly startled to see Mac in his condition.

"Mac! You look like crap."

Mac smirked and walked into the apartment. "Well, you look beautiful."

Boston just blushed and mumbled a "Thank you." She looked down at her clothes and wondered if he was on drugs. She was wearing jeans, a blue tank top, and her watch. Her hair was up in a ponytail and she didn't have any makeup on. But, Mac thought he had never seen anything more beautiful. There was something about her being barefoot and so natural that was driving him crazy. He couldn't look away. "Are you high?"

"What? No. I can't think my girlfriend's beautiful?" Mac laughed sitting down on the couch.

"It's seven in the morning, Mac, and you look like you haven't slept at all," she sat down next to him, curling into his side.

Mac put his arm around Boston and let his head roll back and rest on the back of the couch. Shutting his eyes, he let himself enjoy the feeling of Boston sitting next to him. "That's because I haven't."

"Are you kidding?" Boston tried to jerk away, but Mac just gripped her harder. "You worked for…" she quickly did the math, "eighteen hours?"

Mac brought his head up and looked at Boston. "Yeah, and all I want to do is kiss you for a while, eat, and sleep."

Boston sighed, "Well, did you at least catch the bad guy?"

"Yeah. We did. Now how about that kissing?" Mac laughed closing his eyes again, thankful that she wasn't going to yell at him about working so long. She seemed to understand that sometimes he would have to work long hours, but it was for the good of the city. His heart warmed when he heard Boston laugh, and then he felt her lips on his.

--

"We should probably stop," Boston said in between kisses. Mac was now lying on top of her with one hand up her shirt, rubbing circles on her stomach with his thumb, sending shivers down Boston's back. He ignored her and continued his ministrations. A few minutes later Boston said, "I'm serious. It's almost eight and Stella and Lindsey will be here any minute." Mac groaned, moving his mouth to her neck. He laughed when Boston screeched, "Do _not_give me a hicky!"

Mac pulled away a little and rested his forehead on hers. "Well, I was trying to kiss you, but you wouldn't stop talking."

Smiling, Boston said, "At least we got one thing off your list. You want me to make you a sandwich?"

"In a couple of minutes," Mac said lowering his mouth onto hers.

--

Ten minutes later Mac was sitting at the table eating a sandwich. Boston grabbed a handful of chips and sat across from him, "Why don't you just crash here? You can take a nap in my room and then help us finish up."

"Normally I would argue with you, but I'm too tired. You make a good sandwich," he said taking another bite.

"That's what all the boys say."

--

"You know, this isn't exactly how I pictured my first time in your bed would be," Mac said, leaning against the door jamb to her bedroom while Boston changed the sheets.

She finished up and turned around to face Mac. "You know, you're different than I thought you were going to be." Mac raised his eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. "When we first met you were quiet and not very funny. I thought you were too serious and didn't care about anything besides work. I couldn't have been more wrong; you're not like that at all."

Mac pushed himself off the door and walked towards Boston. "Did you ever think that I was all those things before you? And then you came around and brightened up my life?" Boston didn't know what to say, so she just smiled lightly and reached up to give him a kiss.

Just as things were heating up, there was a knock at the door. The two pulled apart with one last kiss. "That must be them. If you need anything, just holler. Sleep tight," Boston made her way out of the room.

She was almost out when Mac called to her. "Boston!" She turned around and he continued, "Thank you. For everything."

Boston knew exactly what he meant. She bit her lip and replied, "My pleasure."

--

Mac wasn't sure if he would be able to sleep in Boston's bed. He was certain that thoughts of her being with him in this bed would prevent any sort of sleep from coming. But, he had been wrong. Sinking into the bed, he could faintly smell her and felt surrounded by her warmth. He fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, lured to sleep by pictures of Boston's smile dancing through his mind.

It seemed that in no time he was woken up by the smell of food. His stomach growled and Mac realized that he was starving. He pushed the covers off of him, sat up, and glanced at the alarm clock. _2:48! I slept for almost seven hours. I must have been more tired than I thought._ Standing up he stretched and put his shoes back on. He quickly folded up his button down shirt and decided just to wear his black undershirt. Making his way towards the kitchen, he could hear Stella, Lindsey, and Boston all laughing.

"Hey, sleepy head. Want some Chinese?" Stella asked him. He nodded and walked over to the counter to serve himself.

"Nice hair, Mac," he heard Lindsey laugh. Checking himself in the microwave reflection, he saw that his hair was sticking up funny. He ran his hands through it, taming it a bit.

"Well, I think it looks cute," Boston said causing Lindsey and Stella to laugh. Mac could feel his cheeks warming and hoped the girls would quit talking about him. He took a seat besides Boston and was greeted with a light squeeze on his knee.

"I'm so glad that I settled on a darker blue," Lindsey said looking around the place. After all the "blue blue" talk, Lindsey had decided that she just wanted everything to be white with a few navy blue accents. "What do you think, Mac?"

Up until then, Mac had been too consumed with his food to care about the decorations. He put his fork down and glanced around the living room. The girls had boxed up all the stuff on the bookcases and the pictures on the entertainment center. He assumed that he was going to be moving the boxes and bookcases into another room. They had draped the ceiling in white fabric to create a tent-like atmosphere and had hung white and navy Chinese lanterns from the ceiling. They had also rearranged the couch and added a few extra chairs in a way that really created a lot more space. A table was set up along the wall closest to the kitchen. It was covered in white fabric and Mac assumed that would be the food table. There was another table close to the door, also covered in fabric, for the guests to place presents and sign the guest book. All in all, the girls had done a great job creating a warm and romantic atmosphere. "It looks really great. Low key but lovely. Just like you and Danny," Mac turning around again to face Lindsey.

Lindsey and Stella both got sappy looks on their faces and Boston burst out laughing. Lindsey sighed, "You always laugh at the most inappropriate times."

"I know. I can't help it. That was nice Mac. Really, it was," Boston said in between giggles. Mac shook his head in amusement and continued eating.

"Anyway, after we're done eating, we just need help moving the bookcases and entertainment center out. There are also a few more lanterns that need to be hung, but we're all too short," Stella said taking a bite of her chicken.

"What time do the Parties start," Boston asked having recovered from her giggle fit.

"Six o'clock sharp," Lindsey answered. "Do you think Danny's going to have a stripper?" Everyone was silent for a second, so Mac looked up from his plate and noticed their eyes were on him.

"I don't think so. From what I've heard you shouldn't have anything to worry about, Lindsey. It'll be a pretty tame party," Mac answered taking one last bite.

"Well, we're certainly having a male stripper. A cop. But, I'll give him a microscope and a physics book and we can all pretend he's a CSI," Boston said seriously.

"Sometimes I can't tell when you're joking," Mac said, standing up and throwing away his trash.

"Believe me, there'll be no strippers. The last time Boston saw a stripper all she did was laugh and make jokes. She was so embarrassed she wouldn't even look at the guy," Lindsey said laughing. "Or, remember the time we went to Chippendale's and you were pulled on stage and the guy – "

"Okay, story times over. We have things to get done," Boston quickly jolted up and headed for the kitchen.

Mac joined her. "So, Chippendale's, huh?"

"You know, I liked you better when you were quiet and shy." Boston betrayed her words by giving Mac a quick kiss and then pulled him towards the living room. "C'mon funny man, we've got stuff to do."

--

"I can't believe that Danny and Lindsey are married. Or that Boston lives here," Adam pondered as he, Hawkes, and Mac walked out of the elevator and knocked on Boston's door. Music and laughter could be heard and they waited several moments before Danny opened the door.

"Hey! We weren't sure if you guys would actually make it. Thanks for coming, you look good," Danny opened the door wide enough for everyone to get in. Hawkes and Adam gave Danny their congratulations and made a B-line for the food.

"Of course we'd make it Danny. Not even work could have stopped us," Mac said giving Danny a slap on the back. "Congratulations. You've grown up a lot in these last few years. I'm proud of the man you've become. I told you it could happen to you."

Danny pulled Mac into a quick manly hug. "It could happen to you, again," he said looking over his shoulder.

Mac followed Danny's eyes and noticed Lindsey, Adam, and Boston all talking. She was in the middle of telling a story, smiling brightly and gesturing wildly. Adam and Lindsey broke out into laughter and Boston smiled even bigger. Her hair was slightly curled and fell on her shoulders. She was wearing a simple white, strapless, knee-length dress with a navy blue sash around her waist. Mac thought for sure his heart had skipped a beat and he couldn't help but smile.

Mac was jerked from his thoughts when he heard Danny say, "Girls like that only come around once in a lifetime."

Smiling, Mac patted Danny's shoulder again. "That's what I told you when you came to me for advice." Danny nodded and Mac smiled. "C'mon. You should be by your wife's side."

--

Boston looked at the clock for the hundredth time. Mac's shift had ended forty minutes ago and he should have been arriving any minute. She was anxious to see him. He had left the day before at 4:30 and they hadn't talked since. It was funny how quickly Boston had become addicted to Mac. She wanted to be around him all the time, and when she wasn't, all she did was think about him. When she finally spotted him walking towards her she nodded towards her bedroom and Mac seemed to get the idea. She excused herself and made her way in the same direction.

"Hey," she said, gently closing the door behind her.

"Hey," Mac walked to her and pulled her into a kiss.

"How was work?" She asked once they had pulled apart.

"Fine. We solved a case, and that's all the matters," Mac said kissing her again, rubbing his hands along her bare back. "I like your dress. You look amazing."

"Yeah? I like you in a tux. You look handsome. We should get back, but I just wanted to say hi."

"Hi," Mac said in between kisses. "How was the Bachelorette Party?"

"It was good. And stripper free. We just went to a bar and drank…a lot." Mac laughed and went back to kissing Boston. "How was the Bachelor Party?"

"Also, stripper free. We played poker and drank as well."

"I would love to see you drunk," Boston giggled just at the thought of a drunken Mac. Mac frowned and cut off her laughter with his lips.

"We should really get back out there."

"Yeah, we should."

"Then you may need to stop kissing me."

"I can't do that."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"I'd rather you not. It's easier to kiss you when you don't talk."

"I seem to remember that we had this same problem yesterday. I'm starting to get the impression that you have a problem with _not_ kissing."

Mac smiled, "You know, you're kinda cute when you're irritated. And I'm getting the impression that you have a problem with _not talking_ when I'm trying to kiss you." Boston smacked his arm and he sighed. "Okay go ahead," he said continuing to kiss her neck and collarbone.

"Do you work next Friday?" Boston moved her neck to give Mac better access.

"I get off at 4pm." Mac mumbled into Boston's shoulder.

"Perfect. The museum is putting on a big fundraiser ball on Friday night. Do you think…well, if you want to, but you don't have to…you may have other plans," Boston began to ramble, part to do with her nerves and part to do with Mac's mouth.

Mac moved until he was looking Boston directly in the eye. "I would love to go with you." Boston smiled wide and Mac took the opportunity to dive in for another kiss.

"Oh! …I found them…I'm sorry, we just didn't …Oh, jeez." Boston and Mac jumped apart when they heard a very embarrassed Adam enter the room. Stella walked in behind him and immediately figured out what happened.

"They're ready to cut the cake." Stella took one last look at Boston and Mac, laughed, and drug Adam out of the room.

"What are the odds that we will ever live this down or that Adam will ever look us in the eye again?" Boston asked, burying her head in Mac's chest.

"Not very good."

A/N: Thanks for reading! If you want to read another Mac/OC story check out hope4sall's "Unexpected." It it is freakishly awesome. Really, go check it out.


	10. A Night at the Museum

A/N: I had fully intended on not posting this chapter today, but then I got so many wonderful reviews that I thought I should reward you all. So, I hope you all enjoy and thanks to those that reviewed!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Boston.

--

"So what exactly are we looking for?" Stella asked as she stood in the middle of the dress section at Bloomingdale's. She and Lindsey had agreed to help Boston look for a dress for the museum's ball.

"I need a formal dress that is sexy, but not slutty and will make Mac want me," Boston walked to the closest rake and began to thumb through the dresses.

"You could be wearing a cow costume and that man would still want you," Lindsey said.

"A cow costume? That's random. How about this one?" Boston asked holding up a slinky number with a very low cute neckline.

"And that would fall under the category of slutty," Stella said grabbing the dress and putting it back on the rack.

"Oh, this one looks like a cow," Lindsey pulled out a black and white polka dotted dress.

"Can we please be serious? The ball is tomorrow and I'm freaking out."

"Are you worried about the dress or the date?" Stella asked moving on to another rack.

"Both."

"Well, we will find the perfect dress today. Don't worry about that. But, why are you worried about the date?" Lindsey had stopped browsing and was now focused on Boston.

"This date just feels different than anything before. We normally just go to the diner, nothing anything this fancy. I feel like our whole relationship is riding on the line with this date."

Stella started laughing and Boston sent her glare over her shoulder.

"I'm sorry. It's just that, how many nights this week have you guys hung out?" Without waiting for an answer, she continued, "All of them. You guys are around each other all the time. And, from what I saw last week, you are definitely passionate about each other."

"Oh God, are you ever going to forget about that?"

"Forget about you and Mac making out? Not in this lifetime," Stella smiled returning her attention to the dresses in front of her.

"Wait! You were making out with Mac? Where was I?" Lindsey shouted, causing several people to stop and stare at Boston.

She gave a nervous laugh and returned her attention to the gowns, "Umm, enjoying your wedding reception. And it's not like we were making out in front of everyone."

Stella started laughing again, "I don't think Mac would even hold your hand in front of anybody. He's kinda a prude."

"So, is he a good kisser?" Lindsey asked innocently.

"Okay, and it's time for a new topic. How's _your_ love life going, Stella?" Stella looked annoyed that the conversation was suddenly on her. "Hey, fair's fair."

"It's going fine."

"When are you and Flack going to start making out?" Boston asked, avoiding the death glare that Stella sent her.

"I'm so glad that I wasn't the only one who noticed their attraction," Lindsey said, still looking though the dresses. "I asked Danny if he had noticed and he said I was crazy."

"There is nothing going on between me and Flack," Stella said flipping very hostilely through the gowns, practically ripping them off their hangers.

"It doesn't take a CSI to see that you two are doing the dance of love," Boston laughed.

"The dance of love? Who's being random now? Anyway, I think he's got something going on with Detective Angell."

"He doesn't." Boston said. She looked up and noticed the other two looking at her with cocked eyebrows. "What? I talked to him at the wedding. He said he was single and, when I pressed him, he admitted that he liked you but he thought you were way outta his league."

Stella blushed, "I don't know. He was probably just trying to get out of the conversation. Plus, he's so young."

"Maybe, but I doubt it. And I'm way younger than Mac. Age is the thing that matters the least in a relationship. Just think about it." Boston was beginning to think that there was no hope in finding a dress. Then she saw it. "Guys, I think this is the one."

--

"The most important thing is to make sure that none of the guests go upstairs to the offices or downstairs to the archive. I am very serious about this. Use force if you have to." Boston was giving some last minute tips to the security guards.

"Miss Waters, there is a Mac Taylor here for you. Can I let him through?" The party planner's voice buzzed through the walkie talkie that was in Boston's hand. Since Boston had to help set everything up, she and Mac had agreed that he would just meet her there, a couple of minutes before the party was actually supposed to start.

"Yeah, let him through," she said into the radio. "Thanks guys. If you need anything, feel free to ask." Boston walked towards the entrance way and met Mac halfway. "Hey handsome," she gave him a quick hug and pulled him towards her office, so they could have some privacy.

"Wow…you look…wow!" Mac looked Boston over once more with an admiring look. The dress that Boston had picked out was red and floor length. It had a high neckline, but an open back that showed off most of Boston's back. Her hair was up, except for a few strands that framed her face and her bangs were wispy across her forehead. Mac didn't know how to show his thoughts, so he pulled her into kiss.

"I'm glad you like it."

"I more than like it. You were wearing red the first time we met."

Boston smiled, "I guess I was. I'm surprised you remembered."

"Who could forget the day that changed their life?"

"Wow. I like when you get flirty," Boston laughed giving Mac another kiss.

"So, this is your office?" Mac asked pulling away a few moments later and inspected the room. There were stacks of books stacked all over the large room and objects were piled on all the available surfaces. Her desk was covered in papers and a couple of framed photos. Taking a closer look there was one of her and Lindsey on a beach, one of a young girl and an older guy in front of a cornfield, and one of a large group of people. "Is this your family?"

Boston walked over to where Mac was standing and took the photo out of his hands. Smiling slightly she nodded her head, "Yeah, that's my parents and siblings, and all their spouses and kids. It was taken a few weeks before I moved here."

"Who's this?" Mac asked picking up the picture of the child and man.

"That's me and my dad. I was about six and that's our farm."

Mac noticed the hint of nostalgia in her voice. "Do you miss it?"

Boston looked up from the photo and met Mac's eyes. "Home?" Mac nodded. "Sometimes. I mean, I have a pretty awesome life here. But, sometimes I miss my family or the simple life of the farm."

Mac pulled Boston into a hug and whispered in her ear, "Well, I'm glad you moved here."

"Boston, where are you? The guests are beginning to arrive." Boston grabbed the walkie talkie and told the person on the other line that she'd be out in a minute.

"Ready?" She took a deep breath.

"C'mon, you're going to knock 'em dead," Mac grabbed her hand and led her out of the office. He didn't let go of it, even when they were in the middle of the ballroom.

--

Mac was leaning against the bar, watching as Boston talked with a few of the servers. He had been thoroughly impressed by her tonight. He knew she was smart, but he never had really thought about what it took to put together a museum. She had smoozed with all of the big wigs, charming them with her wit and shocking them with her intelligence. She would woo them with tales about the delicate process of choosing the layout for all the exhibits and impress them when she spouted off the historical background of a certain artifact. Then Mac would turn around and she was making a joke about growing up in Nebraska or about a current event.

Mac had been more than happy to let Boston shine. He quietly showed his support by letting his hand rest on her back or getting her another Coke (she had told him to only get her Cokes, it was a work event after all and she didn't want to make a fool out of herself). These past few weeks had made Mac happier than he had been in long time. He was glad that he had finally taken the plunge. It had taken a lot of strength, but it had been worth it all. He wasn't positive that he wouldn't relapse into his old ways, but he hoped that if he did, Boston would be there to pull him back out.

Mac pushed himself off the bar when he saw Boston walking towards him. She smiled at him, "Ya ready to go?"

"Yeah." He took her hand and the two made their way out of the now empty museum. They quickly hailed a cab, and Mac gave the driver his address, instead of Boston's.

"Is that okay?" Mac asked unsurely.

"It's great. Thanks for coming tonight," Boston said leaning slightly into Mac.

"Anytime. It was fun to see you in your native environment. You really wowed everybody in there. Including me. You're really smart."

Boston smirked, "Thanks for noticing."

"I didn't mean it in a bad way. I guess I never realized what it took to put together a museum. The fact that you know all mechanics of that and still have the history background is quite impressive. I'm used to you teaching me about soccer or telling me about the latest Cosmo article, not talking about historical jargon. I like being able to see both sides of you."

"We're here," the driver called.

Mac paid the driver and told Boston to wait in the cab. He got out and quickly ran around the car and opened the door for her.

The cab driver muttered, "And they say chivalry is dead." Mac and Boston looked at each other and laughed. Mac's apartment building was significantly smaller than Boston's and didn't have a doorman.

"It's a walk up, is that okay?" Mac asked, feeling stupid. He knew that Boston was probably wearing heels and wouldn't want to climb three floors of stairs.

"That's okay. I don't mind."

Once they were up the stairs, Mac led Boston to the last apartment and opened the door. Boston walked in and looked around. It was small with a couch, some bookcases, and TV. There were no pictures or knick knacks and felt too neat for someone to actually live in. She suddenly felt sad for Mac. She couldn't imagine not having pictures and random stuff to remind her of home. This wasn't the home of someone who was truly happy.

"Mac," she breathed his name. He walked closer and let his hands roam her back. The kiss started soft but quickly turned passionate.

Always being the gentleman, Mac asked, "Are you sure about this?" Boston didn't reply; instead, she just pushed his jacket off his shoulders, letting it fall to the ground.

--

_Where am I?_ was Boston's first thought. It took her a moment to remember the events of the night before: the museum's ball, retuning to Mac's apartment, making love with him well into the night. She smiled when she registered the heavy arm that was around her waist. Her back was pressed into Mac's chest and she could feel his breath tickling her neck. She sighed contentedly and snuggled closer to him.

"How do you like your eggs?" The question was so abrupt that it startled Boston.

"I thought you were asleep," Boston looked over her shoulder.

"Nope. How do you like your eggs?" Mac repeated.

"Scrambled."

"Easy enough. I'll go make breakfast. You go back to sleep," Mac got up, grabbing a pair of boxers from the floor and slid them on.

"Are you sure you don't want help. I make some _terrific_ bacon."

"Believe me, there will be plenty more breakfasts to come," Mac grinned and Boston let her eyes wander over his bare chest and legs. She looked back up at his face and he was smirking; she'd been caught.

"Yeah, there will be," she sighed flopping back over and snuggling deeper into the bed.

--

Boston had fully intended to only lie in bed for a few more minutes and then get up and help Mac with breakfast. Instead, she was awoken twenty minutes later by the feeling of kisses on her back.

"Boston. Breakfast's ready," she heard Mac whisper in her ear. She moved so that she was sitting up, her back leaning against the wall.

"Here ya go." Make put a tray over her legs. He had made French Toast and eggs and had added a glass of chocolate milk. Also on the try was a whole bag of powdered sugar. "And this." From behind his back he pulled out a single red rose.

Boston smelled the rose and then turned towards Mac, "Thanks. This is really nice. Nobody's ever done anything like this for me."

"Well, get used to it."

--

When they were done with breakfast Mac had cleared away their trays, but Boston had kept the flower and placed it next to her on the nightstand. Now, Boston was cuddled into Mac's side, her head resting on his shoulder. They hadn't really talked since breakfast, both were just thinking.

Finally, Boston broke the silence, "Can I ask you a question?" Mac smiled at the familiar phrase, but just nodded. "Where'd you get this scare?" She lightly traced the edges of the faded scare on his chest.

Mac was silent for a minute, rethinking the events that led to him getting it. "I was a Marine and stationed in Beirut in 1983. There was an attack at the base and we lost a lot of good people that day. I was hit by a piece of shrapnel."

"Does it hurt when I touch it?" she asked quietly.

"No. It doesn't really feel like anything. It's just numb."

"It's kinda hot."

Mac wasn't expecting this and he let out a laugh. "You're the first person who's ever said that before."

"Really? Not even Claire?"

For the second time, Mac was taken aback by Boston. When he had been with Peyton, she had never brought up Claire. It was almost like she didn't want to remind Mac that he was a widower. The fact that she had mentioned Claire showed Mac that Boston was comfortable with both her and Claire's places in his life. There was no competition between them. "She never really mentioned it. I remember a couple of times when I got hurt on the job and she was scared that I could've died; we'd made love and she'd paid special attention to the scare. It was almost like her way of connecting with my injury and comforting herself that I was still alive."

"I can understand that."

After a minute, Mac decided to change the subject, "Do you have soccer today?"

"No, it's our off week."

"I was kinda looking forward to it. I'm finally starting to understand what's going on."

"You just like seeing me in my shorts."

"That too."

"Do you have any plans?" Boston mumbled into his chest.

"Nope. Just spending it with you."

"Well, I have a few ideas on how to pass the time," Boston said as she moved on top of Mac.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

--

A/N: What you think? Thanks for reading!


	11. And It All Comes Crashing Down

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. You are all awesome! This is kind of a different chapter than you've all seen before, so tell me what you think. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Boston.

--

If there was one thing that Mac hated most, it was being late. And here he was ten minutes late for his shift. _This is all Boston's fault. Why does she have to use that shampoo? She knows that it drives me crazy. And then she walks into the bedroom in only a towel and water dripping down her back, acting all innocent. There is _nothing_ innocent about that woman._

"Well, look what the cat dragged in." Mac had just exited the elevator and thought he was going to be able to make it to his office without anyone noticing his arrival. He should have known that he wouldn't be so lucky. He stopped walking when he heard the delighted tone in Stella's voice.

Once she had caught up with him, Mac saw that she was smiling a little too widely for his liking, "Late night, boss? Or early morning?"

"Stella." He said sternly.

"You know that none of this would happen if you guys would just move in together."

"Stella, please. It's way too soon; we've only been dating a couple of months."

"Four." Both Stella and Mac turned around when they heard Lindsey.

"What?" Stella asked.

"Mac and Boston have been dating for four months."

"Thank you, Lindsey, for keeping a track on my relationship," Mac said a little harsher than he meant.

"Well, it's easy for me to remember the day when I introduced you two," Lindsey shrugged, seemingly unaffected by the tone of Mac's voice. "Can I talk to you for a second, Mac? Privately?"

"Sure. But from now on, I would appreciate it if you two would not talk about me and Boston at work. When we're here, I'm the boss. But on that same token, when we're at a social event, I'm just your friend's boyfriend."

"Sure Mac. Me and Danny are going to take the double over on 56th," Stella patted Mac on the back once and headed back towards the elevator. He gestured for Lindsey to follow him into his office for more privacy.

--

Mac made his way back to his office later that same day. He had just worked a particularly gruesome case, but thankfully the killer had been stupid and led them straight to him. He glanced at his clock and realized that his shift had ended an hour ago and that Boston should be getting off work any minute. He decided that he'd take care of a few more things and then head over to her place.

As he approached his desk, he immediately knew that something was off. As he got closer, he saw a picture of Boston entering a favorite coffee shop of hers. There was a huge X over the entire photo and at the bottom, scribbled in hurried writing it said, "You survived, but will she?"

Mac's blood ran cold. He instinctively put on a pair of gloves and ran outside into the hallway. Whoever had done this had come into _his _lab and _his_ office. Someone must have seen something.

"Who did this? Who put this photo on my desk?" Mac barked at the top of his lungs. People began to come out into the hallway.

"Mac, what's going on?" Stella walked up behind him.

"Some son of a bitch put this photo on my desk. He's threatening Boston," Mac snarled.

Stella took a closer look, "Where's this at?"

"Her favorite coffee place. It was taken this morning; she was wearing that outfit."

"Okay, I'll go process this. Danny and Hawkes, process Mac's office. Lindsey, you process the hallway. Everyone else, get back to work, but if one of us comes to you with evidence, you drop everything else to help," Stella ordered. In a softer tone she said, "Mac, give her a call and make sure she's okay."

Mac's mind was racing as he pulled out his phone and quickly dialed her number. It rang for what felt like a lifetime, then a miracle. "_Hey, babe_," Boston's cheerful voice had never sounded so good to Mac.

"Where are you?" Mac asked harshly.

Boston instantly picked up on his tone, "_Umm…I'm just leaving the museum."_

"NO! Go back into your office and stay there until I come and get you."

_"What? No, Mac, I'm not_ _–"_

"Please Boston! Just trust me," Mac's voice pleaded.

_"Okay, okay. I'm back in my office."_

"Lock the door."

_"It's locked. Mac, you're scaring me."_

Mac took a deep breath and tried to sound as comforting as he could, "It'll be alright, honey." Boston knew that something serious was happening; Mac never used pet names. "Just, don't let anyone, and I mean _anyone_ into your office. Not even your boss."

_"Okay."_ Mac could hear the strain in Boston's voice. He felt terrible that he had frightened her, but he had to make sure that she was safe.

"I love you." This hadn't been the way the Mac had planned on telling her, but it felt like the right time. If something did happen to her, he knew that he could never live with himself if she hadn't known how he had felt.

_"What?"_

"You heard me. I love you. I gotta go, but I'll call you as soon as I can."

_"Wait, Mac!"_

"Yeah?"

_"I love you, too,"_ Mac could practically hear her smiling. He hung up the phone, smiling a little too, and ran to the Trace Lab.

"Got anything," he asked, pulling on a lab coat.

Stella sighed and ripped off her gloves forcefully. "It's clean. How's Boston?"

"She's fine. I told her to lock herself in her office. I don't want her trying to get home with someone obviously watching her."

"Your office is clean," Hawkes said running in closely followed by Danny.

"So is the hallway," Lindsey came walking into the lab. Mac could see the tears that were threatening to spill and was glad when Danny walked over to her.

"Okay, let's start with the evidence we do have," Stella said grabbing the picture. "What does, 'You survived, but will she?' mean? What have you survived?"

Before Mac could answer, his cell rang. He didn't recognize the number. "Get a trace on this number," he ordered and then answered. "Taylor."

_"Well, hello again Detective Taylor."_ Mac would have recognized that voice anywhere. _"Do you remember me?"_

"Who could forget the man who kidnapped them." Stella, Hawkes, Danny, and Lindsey all got wide eyes. Stella mouthed _Joe_ and Mac nodded.

_"Very good, Detective. I still haven't figured out how you survived being shot. There isn't much for me to do here in jail, so I just sit around, day after day, planning my revenge. And then I came up with the perfect plan: kill someone you love. You took away my freedom, so I'm gonna take away your happiness. I found out about Claire. It's really a shame she was already dead, she'd have been the perfect target._" Mac gritted his teeth at the mention of Claire. He had to remain in control and couldn't let Joe know that he was being affected. _"Then one of my guys, a doorman, you may know him, he found out that you were screwing that slutty little girlfriend of yours. I do admire your taste though. She's a hot little thing, but a little young for you. Twenty-seven; that's almost a twenty year age difference, Taylor. But she does have a pretty mouth. I bet it's awfully good at suck – "_

"STOP! Listen here you evil son of a bitch. I will hunt down and personally arrest every single one of our accomplices. And if anything, and I mean _anything_, happens to Boston, I will turn in my badge and come to the that jail cell of yours and beat the living shit out of you. Consider this a warning." Mac closed his phone with a bang and slammed his fists on the table.

"The call came from the prison, but we already knew that," Hawkes said, putting his own phone down.

Mac took several deep breaths and tried to control his emotions. After a minute, he looked at his team, "One of his accomplices is Marvin, Boston's doorman. Get Angell to pick him up."

Mac's phone began to ring again. Everyone tensed and taking a deep breath, Mac picked it up. It was a picture message, but Mac couldn't tell what it was of. "Lindsey, put this picture up on the screen."

"Sure," she grabbed the phone from Mac and walked to the closest computer. Hitting a few buttons, the picture finally popped up on the screen.

Mac instantly recognized what it was. "That's Boston's office. See those pictures; there of her and her family."

"Shit, Mac. Look at that," Danny was pointing to the bottom of the screen. "It's a bomb."

--

"Pick up your goddamn phone!" Mac yelled as he was running towards his truck. Flack came out of nowhere and grabbed the keys from Mac.

"I'll drive." Mac didn't argue, he knew that he was far too worried to drive safely.

On the sixth ring, Boston finally answered, "Hey –"

"Get out the building! Now!" Mac shouted into the receiver.

"But you said – "

"I know what I said. But you have to get out now. I'll be there in less than five minutes."

"Okay, I'm –" The next thing Mac heard was a loud explosion and then the line went dead.

--

A/N: _Evil Laugh_. Thanks for reading!


	12. Beauty in the Breakdown

A/N: Here's a reward for all the wonderful (and slightly threatening) reviews! I'm glad you all liked the drama. Just to refresh everyone, Joe's real name is Ethan Scott. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Boston.

--

"_Get out the building! Now!" Mac shouted into the receiver._

_"But you said – "_

_"I know what I said. But you have to get out now. I'll be there in less than five minutes."_

_"Okay, I'm –" The next thing Mac heard was a loud explosion and then the line went dead._

_--_

Mac felt his world come crashing down. He couldn't understand how this all had happened. Just this morning Boston was making fun of his advances and calling him a "horndog." Boston's body had still been wet from her shower and felt so wonderful and soft as it rubbed against his. Mac remembered thinking that they should make love in the morning more often. Now here he was, not even twelve hours later, not knowing if he would ever see her again. He was tired of watching people he loved, die from afar.

Mac jumped out of the truck before Flack had even slowed down. His mind was in haze and all he saw was smoke and police lights and people walking around disoriented. The only person he did want to see was nowhere in sight. Mac started to run towards the building vaguely aware that Flack was right behind him. The first thing he noticed was the gaping hole in the side of the building and he felt his heart thump harder as he began to realize that no one could survive that kind of blast.

He was getting closer to the building, and that's when he saw her. Mac picked up the pace and skidded to a stop on his knees right beside her. She was lying on her back unconscious. There was a cut on her forehead that was bleeding heavily and Mac noticed that the entire side of her face was covered in blood. He quickly ripped off his button up shirt and applied pressure to her wound. Mac heard Flack approach, mutter a curse under his breath, and call for a medic.

"The bus will be here in a minute, Mac. She'll be okay."

All Mac could do was stare at her. He knew that if she didn't survive this, he would never forgive himself. The only reason why he survived after Claire died was because he knew deep down that he couldn't have saved her. But if Boston died, he would have to live for the rest of his life knowing that he had failed her. Mac had gotten so accustomed to her being around that he didn't want to think about reverting back to his old ways. She had brought a cheerfulness and color to his life and Mac couldn't imagine living without her.

It felt like a lifetime before the ambulance pulled up. The medics ran up and Flack pulled Mac away from Boston. "Let them do their work," Flack had said, leaving his hand on Mac's shoulder.

--

It had been seven and a half hours since Boston had been admitted to St. Mary's Hospital. The paramedics had been unable to control the bleeding from the gash on her head and she had been immediately rushed into surgery. Mac had ridden in the ambulance but was forced to wait in the waiting room. Flack and the rest of the team had arrived twenty minutes later and had silently taken their seats around Mac.

He glanced at his watch again, _Seven hours and thirty-two minutes._ Finally the doctor walked in and everyone stood.

"Are you here for Ms. Waters?" the doctor asked looking at the large group.

"Yes," Mac said quietly.

"Are you her family?"

"Yes." This time it was Danny who spoke.

The doctor looked skeptically at them, but continued on when he noticed Mac's badge, "She made it out of surgery fine." There was a collective sigh of relief. "She lost a lot of blood and it was touch and go for a while, but we finally got the bleeding to stop. She's still unconscious but has been moved into a recovery room. When she awakes, we'll do a few additional tests to make sure there were no serious internal injuries. We'll have to keep her for a few days to monitor her concussion and wound, but for the time being she should make a full recovery. Seeing as the late hour, we are going to ask that only one of you visit for now. The rest can see her tomorrow. Who's going to see her?"

Everyone looked at Mac and Mac looked at Lindsey. "You go ahead Mac," Lindsey smiled lightly.

He nodded his thanks and followed the doctor to Boston's room. He stood outside for a few moments trying to reign in his thoughts. Finally, he mustered enough courage and pushed open the door. Except for the lights of the machines, it was completely dark inside. It took his eyes a few seconds to adjust but he finally was able to make out Boston. She looked so small lying in the middle of the hospital bed. He walked up beside the bed and let himself admire her. She was pale with dark circles under eyes and a large bandage covering part of her forehead. Her hair was matted down and there was still a little blood in the strands, but Mac thought she looked stunning. He gently touched her arm and marveled at how soft it was. He had asked her once how she got her skin so soft; she had laughed and grabbed the lotion bottle off the dresser. "You wanna help me put it on?" she had asked him innocently. Never one to say no to a lady, Mac had taken his time applying the lotion and kisses to each of her legs, working his way up to her stomach and breasts, and last, her arms.

Mac frowned at the memory. He could feel his body losing control as he stepped back from Boston. His back hit a wall and he slid down until he was sitting on the ground with his knees in front of him. He thought of Boston and all she had brought into his life; he thought about Claire and how happy he had been with her. And for the first time in years, Mac let himself lose control.

--

Mac was awoken by the feeling of fingers running threw his hair. After Mac had broken down the night before, he pulled up a chair close to Boston's bed. He had held her hand for hours only leaving to make a phone call to Boston's family, updating them on her condition and then had fallen asleep with one hand bent under his head and the other still grasping her hand.

He jerked his head up and was met by the most beautiful sight: Boston awake with a small smile playing on her lips. "Hey," she said.

"Hey. How do you feel," Mac asked sitting up in his chair.

"Like I was in a bombing…Oh, wait! I was."

--

Boston had fallen asleep shortly after the nurse had come and check on her. Later in the morning, she had forced Mac to go back to his apartment to shower and eat.

"No, I'm not leaving you," Mac had argued.

"They're going to be doing testing on me all morning, Mac. Please go and take care of yourself. For me?" she had batted her eyelashes and laughed.

Mac had to admire the fact that the woman knew exactly how to play him. He had sighed and mumbled, "Fine."

--

Mac had been sitting in Boston's room later that morning, waiting for her to return when Chief Sinclair walked in. "Mac," he stuck out his hand and Mac stood up andbshook it. Getting straight to the point, Sinclair said, "Boston was the only one that was seriously injured. A couple of bystanders were thrown backwards, but weren't hurt. We've also pulled out four bodies from the wreckage so far. She's lucky she got out in time."

"Yeah, she was. Did Angell pick up Marvin?"

"Yeah, he saw her and practically started confessing. He gave up Ethan Scott, the guy who kidnapped you, and three other partners. Apparently one of Scott's cell partners was a member of the 311 gang. Scott got in contact with some of the old 311 members five months ago, and it turns out that Marvin was actually a founder of the gang. Then he recognized you one night when you went to Miss Waters' apartment. Marvin started tracking her, and he and Scott hatched this idea of setting off a bomb in the museum."

"Have all the other partners been apprehended?"

"We have Uni's out now to get them. Scott has been put into isolation and charged with conspiracy to compete murder, attempted murder, and at least four counts of first degree murder. He'll get life in prison."

--

It was the next afternoon and Boston was much more alert and awake. The doctor had came in and told them that the test results showed no internal damage and that she'd be able to go home the following day.

Boston and Mac were talking quietly when the whole team walked in.

"Hey, Bos! How do you feel?" Lindsey asked rushing to Boston's side.

"Well, I'm gonna need a new phone and my best jeans were ripped, but other than I'm fine."

"You gave us all quite the worry," Sheldon said from the foot of her bed.

"I was trying to out due Flack's bombing incident, but I fell short," Boston smiled.

Flack chuckled, "You'll have to try harder next time, Waters."

The team had stayed for a little while longer until Boston started yawning. Mac had stayed behind and retook his post by her side.

"You should go too. Get some sleep," Boston glanced over at him with a pleading look.

"No."

"Mac, I'll be alright. I think I can survive without you for one night. You need a good night's sleep."

Mac looked her directly in the eye, "It's not about you, Boston. _I_ need to stay here because I don't think I can survive one night without you. I'm not going to argue with you on this."

She smiled lightly and whispered already half asleep. "Okay."

--

"I am _so_ ready to get out of here," Boston said rocking on the balls of her feet. She was waiting for the nurse to come back with her discharge papers. Mac put his hand on her lower back in an effort to calm her down.

The nurse walked back into the room and handed Boston a stack of papers. "These are your instructions. You need to stay with someone for a week. Will that be a problem?"

"No," Mac answered quickly.

The nurse smiled lightly and continued, "You'll need to fill this prescription for the anti-infection pills. You need to take things easy, don't push yourself too hard. Having said this, you can have sex, if you're feeling up to it." Boston's eyes popped out and she burst out laughing. Mac hoped that he wasn't blushing too much and quickly thanked the nurse as she was leaving.

"So, do you want to stay at my place or yours?" Mac asked as Boston thumbed through the papers.

She sighed and looked up at him, "Yours. I just feel creeped out knowing that Marvin was in on it. I mean, he was the guy that was supposed to protect me."

Mac walked closer to her and pulled her into a hug, "It's understandable." Mac had almost not told her about what Sinclair had told him, but then he figured that she deserved to know. It had been hard telling her; watching her cry and looking so lost.

"C'mon. Take me home."

--

"Are you sure you don't need anything?" Mac asked for the eighth time.

"Mac. I'm fine. I have everything I need right here," she snuggled closer to him and took a sip of her water.

"I'm sorry." Mac said quietly.

Boston looked up at him and gave him a concerned look, "About what?"

Mac looked down at his hands, "This was all my fault, Boston. I almost got you killed. Those guys went after you because of how _I_ feel about you. Do you understand what would happen to me if I lost someone else that I loved? I would have been destroyed."

Boston put her hand on his knee and said softly, "But you did save me."

Mac snapped, jumping up from the couch he started pacing his living room. "But it was _so_ close, Boston. If you would have stayed in there a moment longer, I would have lost you."

Boston stood up and forcefully grabbed him to make him stop moving. "Mac, look at me. Look at me." Finally he let his eyes met hers. "This was _not _your fault. Some crazy guy decided he hated you and wanted to ruin your life. Well guess what, he failed. It's going to take more than a pesky little bomb for you to get rid of me."

"But what if something like this happens again? I can't keep putting you in danger because I'm being selfish. I'd rather know you were safe and be alone than to have to live with the fact that I got you killed. I can't do this anymore." He couldn't bear to look at her, knowing that he was crushing her.

"No! You are not going to do this, Mac. You are _not _going to push me away because you're scared." Boston yelled. Mac looked up startled; he had never really heard her raise her voice. She was silent for a few moments and Mac could tell that she was crying. It broke his heart knowing that he had caused her pain. "I need you as much as you need me. I'm still here and I'm not planning on going anywhere," she added, softly touching Mac's neck.

The simple touch caused Mac to break. He quickly gathered Boston into her arms. "I'm so stupid. I'm sorry," he whispered over and over in ear. After a while he pulled back, "I've never heard you yell before."

"Yeah, well, you should see me when the Red Sox lose."

"So, you must yell a lot then."

"HEY!"

Mac cut off the rest of her rant with a gentle kiss. "I was serious when I told you I loved you. I was planning on taking you somewhere romantic to tell you, but my emotions were running high."

Boston smiled into his chest, "Well, I can't think of anything more romantic than saving me from a bomb. Thanks for that, by the way."

"Anytime," Mac smirked. He suddenly turned serious, "Will you promise me that you won't give up on us, even when I have?"

"I think I can do that." Boston brought her lips up to Mac's. Before they started kissing Boston whispered, "I love you, too."

--

Boston groaned when she heard the phone ring. She and Mac had just gotten to sleep when someone rudely decided to call. She decided that maybe if she ignored it, it would stop ringing. Snuggling deeper into Mac's arms, she was annoyed when the sound continued going. She poked Mac's chest a few times and sent him a mumbled, "Answer the phone."

Mac gave a light groan, but reached across Boston to answer his home phone. He looked at the caller id, "Its Lindsey. Here." He smiled when he heard Boston grumble and snatch the phone away from him.

"What?"

_"Is that how you always answer the phone?"_

"It is when it's…2:56 in the morning. Did you call just too verbally harass me, or do you actually need something," Boston snipped as she rolled back putting her head on Mac's chest and shutting her eyes.

_"Were you and Mac having sex?"_

"What? " Boston's eyes shot open. "No. We were sleeping. That's what people generally do in the middle of the night. Now, enough with the chitchat, what'd you want?"

_"I'm pregnant!"_

Boston jolted up, leaving a shocked Mac still lying down. "What? Oh my god! How far along are you?"

_"Oh good, you're surprised. I was worried that Mac already told you. I'm four months along."_

Boston flopped back down on Mac's chest, "Wait, why would Mac know?" She tried to send death glares at him, but he just shrugged.

_"Well, I told him. He is my boss, after all._"

Boston shot up again, "Four months? You were pregnant at your wedding. I knew it. I am _so _psychic. Why didn't you tell me?"

_"We wanted to make sure that everything went well in the first few months. And I didn't want you to think less of me. You know, getting pregnant before marriage."_

Boston laid back down next to Mac, who put his arms around her. "Too late, Linds. I already think you're a skank. Seriously, I'm so happy for you guys. Danny is going to make the best dad and you were made to be a mom."

_"I hope so."_

"Well, I'm psychic, so I'm telling you, it's the truth. You will be awesome parents. So…you've kept this a secret from me for four months and suddenly felt the need to share this news at 3am?"

_"Boston, you almost died. I felt terrible that I hadn't told my best friend the greatest news of my life. And plus, I just got off work. Oh, wait! I forgot the best part! When I called Stella's place, Flack answered the phone!"_

Boston tried to sit up again, but Mac's grip kept her down. "No way. It's about time." To Mac she said, "Flack and Stella are together."

With his eyes still shut he mumbled, "I know."

Boston gave a sound of disguise, "Well, Mac Man over here, already knew."

_"Well, he is one the best CSIs."_

"I know; it's no fun. I can never surprise him. It's horrible."

_"Okay, well, I'll let you go, but me and Stella are all going baby shopping tomorrow. Can you come?"_

"Yeah, for a few hours at least."

_"Good, but if you get tired, you have to tell us."_

"Okay, Mom."

Ignoring Boston's comment, Lindsey continued, _"We'll pick you up at 11. Your place or Mac's?"_

"Mac's."

_"Okay, see ya then."_

"Bye." Boston returned the phone to its charger and looked at Mac. His eyes were closed, but she knew he was awake.

"Are you going to come back to sleep?" Mac asked.

"I'm too excited." She bounced a few times, and then laid down top of Mac. "I'm gonna be an aunt! Why didn't you tell me?"

Mac wrapped his arms around Boston and opened his eyes, "Lindsey made me promise not to. Plus, I only found out about it that morning, and then other things came up."

"Right. How'd you know about Flack?" she asked kissing his neck in the place he liked.

"Uh…Flack asked me for advice."

She stopped her kissing and looked up at him, "Advice on what?"

"How to woo a woman that's outta his league."

Boston threw her head back and laughed. "Mac. You did not woo me."

"I found those soccer leagues for you and I kissed you first."

"True and the kiss was _very _romantic, but do you realize how hard it was for me to get you to open up. I used some of my best stuff on you. And I took you to my soccer game, which I _never_ take guys to watch me play. Plus, Stella and Lindsey told me how they had to persuade you to actually go out with me."

"You girls talk way too much. Who cares if I was hesitant at first, I came around, didn't I?"

"That you did." Boston started laughing again. "What'd you tell Flack," she said moving her lips back to his neck.

"That it's about the build up and the small things. And that you need to treasure every second you have with girls like that, because you never know when_ they_ _will_ realize that they are way outta your league."

"Okay, see, there you wooed me."

--

A/N: What'd you think? Do you guys want more agnst or back to the fluffiness? Thanks for reading!


	13. Nebraska Calls

A/N: Thanks for the reviews. I'm not going to be able to post as fast anymore, because I actually need to do other things besides writing this story. But, I will try and post twice a week. Enjoy this long chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Boston.

_--_

_Maybe Stella's right,_ Mac thought as he walked into his empty apartment. Lately she had really been hinting that Mac should ask Boston to move in with him. He knew that Boston would never agree to it, but in the weeks following the bombing, Mac had started to seriously consider it. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had been so close to losing her and now all he wanted to do was cherish every second he did have with her. They spent every night together and Boston had cleared out part of her closet for Mac to hang his clothes, so it only made sense that they took the next step and moved in together.

He threw his keys and badge on the counter and put his jacket on the back of a chair. Normally, he and Boston would meet at one of their apartments. Today, however, he hadn't spoken to her since he rushed out of her apartment early this morning and he didn't want to just barge in if she didn't want him there. He debated about whether to grab a bite to eat, but decided he'd just go to bed. He was already unbuttoning his shirt as he walked into his bedroom, when he stopped. Boston was laying on what had fast become her side of the bed. She was curled around the comforter, one of her bare legs sticking out, and was only wearing one of his shirts. She knew how much it turned him on to see her in his shirts and she was particularly a fan of his old Marine t-shirts. He had asked her about it once, and she had just shrugged and said that she was proud of his service. "Plus," she had giggled, "it's kinda hot that you're a Marine."

He quickly finished undressing, pulled on a pair of sweats, and secured his gun. Then he climbed into bed and hoped that he hadn't woken Boston up.

"Hey," he heard her mumble as she scooted into his arms.

"Hey. Sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep."

"I was just resting my eyes."

Mac let out a laugh, "Whatever you say."

"How was work?"

"Long. How was your day?" Mac was starting to get the impression that something was wrong. Normally she was much more chatty. Even if she was half asleep, she still seemed to be able to go on and on.

"Sucky." Mac frowned and pulled Boston's face up so that he could look at her. It was then that he noticed her tear streaked face. He softly rubbed his thumbs over her cheeks, waiting for her to continue. "I talked to my boss and they have decided to scrap the whole museum, so I am now unemployed. Then I talked to mom and she wants me to come out for a visit before I start looking for a job. Then she told me that my dog, Milwaukee, died. Then I went to take a shower and there was no hot water and my super is out of town until next week. And to top it all off, I broke a mirror. I'm cursed for seven years!" She buried her head in Mac's chest, but didn't cry.

Mac wasn't really sure to begin. "I think you should go to Nebraska. It might do you some good."

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" she mumbled into his chest, tickling him.

"Never. I just know that you miss your family and the farm. Maybe it'll also help you get over the jitters you've had since the bombing."

"You noticed?"

"Of course I noticed." It hadn't taken a CSI to figure out that Boston had been more nervous than usual in the weeks that had passed. She hadn't been back to the coffee shop where her picture had been taken and Mac could tell that she still felt uneasy in her apartment building. "I'll miss you, but I think it's for the best."

"Maybe you're right."

"Of course I'm right. About the job, I'm not worried. There are a hundred different museums in this city. You'll find a new job in no time."

"Yeah." Mac could tell that she was beginning to perk up. It warmed his heart to know that he could make her feel better and pulled her closer to him. "You can stay here until you get the water fixed."

"Really?"

"Of course. I liked coming home tonight and seeing you here."

"I was afraid that I was overstepping some sort of boundary, but I just wanted to be near you."

"You can come here whenever you want," Mac said gently kissing her hair. He was rewarded with a longer kiss on the lips. After they had pulled apart, Mac took a deep breath, "In fact, I was thinking that maybe we could move in together."

Boston had a look of shock on her face and Mac instantly regretted asking. "Mac."

"It's okay. Forget I asked."

Boston sighed; she felt terrible. "It's not that I don't want to move in with you Mac. I just…it's kinda soon. I thought you were supposed to be the cautious one."

"What can I say, you make me reckless."

Boston smiled, "I love you. Will you just give me some to think about it?"

"I think I can do that," Mac said as Boston kissed him. Mac couldn't help but asking, "You named your dog Milwaukee?"

Boston playfully slapped his arm. "I was ten and feeling self-conscious about my name."

"I like your name."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. It suits you. What's your middle name?"

"San Jose," she deadpanned causing Mac to chuckle. "It's Madison.

"Boston Madison Waters," Mac tested it out. "I like it."

"I'm glad you approve."

"You do realize that your initials are BMW?"

"Yeah, clearly my parents have quite the sense of humor. What's your middle name?"

"I don't have one."

"What?!" Boston shot up. "How do you not have a middle name? That's amazing."

"My dad thought middle names were for girls."

"You know, you not having a middle name kinda suits you. You're Mac Taylor, too cool for a middle name. Too manly. Too –" Mac cut Boston off with a kiss.

--

"Can you hand me that shirt," Boston asked pointed to a grey t-shirt lying in the middle of her bed.

Mac looked at the shirt, then back at Boston, "That's _my _shirt."

Boston sent him a smirk, "I know." Mac smiled lightly and handed her the shirt. "Thanks. I just want to take something to help me sleep." Mac felt his heart flutter a little at the thought that his shirt would help Boston sleep. It never ceased to amaze him how good it felt to know that Boston needed him. He took a minute to just stare at her. She was sitting cross-legged in the middle of her bedroom floor surrounded by clothes, shoes, and a large suitcase packing for her trip tomorrow. It was times like these when he loved her the most. When she was laughing or teasing him or just rambling on about something. She wasn't dressed up and didn't have makeup on. She was just Boston. His Boston.

"Can you stop staring at me for seven seconds and hand me those undies over there."

Mac got up from the bed and walked over to Boston. "In a minute. But first, let me help you with the pair you have on right now." Mac lightly pushed her so that she was lying on the floor and then he climbed on top of her.

"Are you kidding me? We are _not _having sex on all my clean clothes," Boston scoffed, pushing Mac's hands off her legs.

"I thought I was supposed to be the prude," Mac said moving his mouth to her neck.

"You act as if we never have sex!"

"What's that worst thing that could happen?" He tried to unbutton Boston's jeans, but she quickly grabbed his hands.

"Ummm…let's see. Your man juice could get all over my clean clothes," she said rather loudly.

Mac started laughing, "My man juice?" He gave Boston one last kiss, then moved to lay back down on the bed.

"Don't worry; I'll make it up to you later. Now, can you hand me those undies?" Mac groaned, but handed them to her. "Thanks, babe."

"I'm going to miss you," Mac said softly.

Boston looked up from the shirt she was folding. She smiled softly, "I'll miss you, too. It's only for ten days. And I'll call everyday. Will you be okay?"

_No. I'm never okay without you. When did I become so addicted to you?_ Mac knew he couldn't actually say what was flowing though his mind. Boston would make fun of him while secretly worrying. "I think I can manage. But you have to promise me you won't get there and decide to stay."

"Mac." A few months into their relationship, Mac had told Boston about Peyton. She had listened intently while he spoke of the pain that her staying in London had caused him. "My family may be in Nebraska, but my life is here now. This is where I belong."

Mac's reply was cut off by the phone ringing. Boston huffed, "I guarantee that's Lindsey. She has this sixth sense about when we're having an intimate moment."

Mac chuckled as he reached for the phone. He looked at the caller-id and shook his head. "Close enough; it's Stella."

Boston sighed and reached for the phone, "Hey Stell."

_"Hey. Can you meet me and Linds for a late lunch?"_

Boston looked at Mac and smiled as she watched him fold a shirt. She really just wanted to spend the whole day with him, but figured that a lunch date with the girls would also be good. "Sure, when and where?"

_"Can you meet us at the usual place at 1:30?"_

"I will be there."

_"See ya then."_

"Goin' out?" Mac asked once she had hung up.

"Yeah. Lunch with Stell and Linds. I'll definitely be back for our date tonight, though." Earlier in the week, Mac had announced that they would be going out on a date on the eve of her trip. He had been vague about the whole thing, only telling Boston that she should wear something semi-formal. He was pretty proud of the fact that he had not relented into her demands to know the agenda. Boston had used every trick in the book to try and find out what the plan was. In a particularly dark moment, she had even offered Mac sexual favors, which he had to summon all his will to turn down.

"Okay. I need to go into the lab for a little while, but be ready at 6." Mac sat up and quickly put on his shoes.

"I'm looking forward to it. I love you." Boston gave him a kiss.

"Love ya, too. Have fun."

--

"Hey guys," Boston aid as she walked into the café. She slid into the booth next to Lindsey. "Wow, Linds! You're starting to show. That's so cool."

Lindsey gave Boston a dirty look, "You think I'm fat."

"Umm, no. I think you have a beautiful baby inside of you. Are you going to call me a slut again?"

Lindsey laughed, "No. I guess I'm just self-consciousness."

Stella took a sip of her water, and then set her glass down, examining Boston closely. "Have you and Mac talked about having a baby?"

Boston's eyes bulged out of their sockets. She had thought about having a baby long before she ever met Mac. She had loved growing up in a big family and knew that she wanted to have a large family of her own. A couple of weeks ago the whole gang had come to one of Boston's soccer games and Flack had brought his four year old nephew. Seeing Mac play and teach the boy to salute had made Boston start seriously considering having kids with him. "I've thought about it, but we haven't talked about it. It's _way_ too soon. We've been dating, what, five months? Maybe in a few years we'll discuss it." Stella raised her eyebrows. "What? I like to take things slow."

"Yeah, really slow," Lindsey laughed. "Anyway how are you and Flack?"

Boston turned her eyes to Stella and immediately noticed that red was slowly starting to paint her cheeks. "That's private."

"Are you kidding me?" Boston sat taller in her seat. "You harass me every day for details about my relationship and now you won't share any?"

"Is he good in bed?" Lindsey asked and Stella just got redder. "That's a yes."

"You know what they say," Boston said taking a sip of Coke. "Once you go Flack, you never go back."

--

It was 5:15 when Boston burst through her apartment door. She had exactly 45 minutes to shower and get ready before her date. She threw her purse and jacket in the direction of her couch. She bolted into her bedroom and immediately noticed a note and rose lying on her bed. She picked up the card and quickly opened it. In Mac's neat block handwriting it read:

Boston –

I hope you had a great afternoon.

When you're done getting ready,

Come to the roof. I'll be waiting for you.

You're beautiful and I love you.

– M

Boston was sure that she had never gotten ready so fast in her life. After much deliberation, she chose a dark purple, knee length dress with wide, lace straps and a deep v-neck. She decided to leave her hair down and slightly wavy. Finally at 6:02, she was made her way up the stairs to the roof.

She pushed open the door and was met by a trail of rose petals. Following the petals around the corner, her heart stopped at what she saw. There was a coach pushed to one side of the far wall and Mac's guitar was propped against it. In the middle of the roof was a linen covered table with two place settings and two candlesticks. Besides the moon and surrounding buildings, it was lit by strings of white lights.

"Sometimes when I look at you, I'm sure my heart is going to stop beating." Boston heard the words at the same time she felt Mac's hand touch her shoulder blades.

Boston turned around, "This is beautiful, Mac."

"Not as beautiful as you," Mac whispered as he pulled Boston close. She reached up to give him a soft kiss. Mac pulled away and grabbed Boston's hand, guiding her to the table.

"Madame," Mac said as he pulled out Boston's chair. He walked over to another table that Boston hadn't noticed. "Tonight is all about giving you a way to remember New York," he said reaching under the cloth that covered that table. Boston laughed when Mac pulled out a box of Ray's Pizza. He put two slices on each of their plates and set the box on the ground. "And to drink. I hope you find the year to your liking." He went back to the table and pulled out a 2-liter of Coke. Mac carefully poured the pop into their wine glasses, then put the bottle by the pizza box. Taking his seat, he looked unsurely at Boston.

"Mac, this is…amazing. I don't know what to say."

"Wow! I made _you_ speechless. I didn't think that could happen."

"I'm going to overlook the fact that you're being a smartass only because this is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me."

They spent the rest of dinner chatting easily about their childhoods. She told him about the time she broke her leg trying to ice skate in the horse trough. He told her about the time he had ditched school to go to a Cubs game only to have his face end up on the jumbo screen. His dad had skipped work to go to the same game, saw Mac, and had agreed not to tell his mother if Mac agreed not to tell her about his dad missing work.

After dinner, the two made their way over to the couch. Mac grabbed his guitar and began to play. Boston had to will herself not to cry when he started singing Lifehouse's "Breathing." It was Boston's favorite song and she had forced, on more than one occasion, Mac to listen to it. It wasn't very often that he gave her a private show and it was even less often that he sang. He didn't have a terrific voice, but it was Mac's voice and there was something sexy and strong and heartbreaking about it.

When he had finished the song, she thanked him with a passionate kiss. When they pulled apart she said, "I loved that, Mac. It was beautiful."

Mac gave her another kiss then pulled back and asked, "Wanna play?"

"What?"

"The first night we met, you mentioned that you always wanted to play an instrument. Here's your chance." He nudged her with his elbow and offered her the guitar.

"Do you remember everything I say?" she asked, taking the guitar from him.

"Pretty much. Okay, put your fingers here," Mac placed her fingers on the cords, "and now strum with your thumb." Boston did as she was told and strummed the guitar.

Mac smiled when her face lit up, "I made music, Mac!"

"That was good. Now move your fingers here and strum again."

They continued on for another thirty minutes. Boston eventually learned the opening cords of "Breathing." They stopped only after Boston's fingers started to hurt. They cuddled on the couch for a while longer, admiring the skyline but Mac soon noticed that Boston was shivering.

"C'mon. You're cold," Mac said standing up. He pulled Boston up and then led her back to the door.

"Wait, we have to clean up," Boston said looking towards the table and lights.

"It's already taken care of. C'mon." Mac led her down the stairs and back to her apartment. He was about to open the door when he turned around, facing Boston. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, "I'm going to put this on you."

"Why?"

"Because," he said as he placed it over her eyes and tied it. He then grabbed her hand and carefully led her into her apartment and back to her bedroom. Taking the handkerchief off, he closely watched her face.

"How?...How'd you do this?" Boston was so overcome with emotion that she began to cry. The room was completely lit in candles that were set on every available surface and rose petals covered the floor and bed.

"A man never reveals his secrets." Mac leaned down and kissed the tears off her cheeks.

"This is perfect. You're perfect."

--

"Got everything?" Mac asked as he grabbed Boston's suitcase.

She took another glance around her bedroom, then nodded. "I think so." She quickly grabbed her purse and jacket and followed him out the door.

It was 5 in the morning and still dark out as they made their way to the garage where Mac's truck was parked.

"What's up?" Mac asked twenty minutes later. Boston had not uttered a single word the whole time they had been in the truck. She was just staring absentmindedly out the window.

She turned to face him and gave, what Mac knew was, a fake smile. "I'm tired."

"Sure there's nothing else running though that pretty head of yours?"

"I just hope that the Red Sox can make it to the World Series."

Mac laughed, "Of course you'd be thinking about that."

--

Once Boston had checked her baggage, she pulled Mac to the side. "So, this is it."

Mac could tell that she was trying to put on a brave front. He pulled her into a hug and said into her hair, "I love you and I'll miss you, but you're going to have a great time. Just try not to get into any trouble."

Boston laughed into Mac's chest, "I'll try." Taking a deep breath, "Okay, it's only for ten days," she tried to convince herself.

"We'll talk every day."

"Definitely," she leaned in and gave Mac a quick kiss. "I love you, too." They said their goodbyes and Boston started walking towards security, but she quickly turned around, "You know back in the truck I said I was thinking about the Red Sox?" Mac nodded. "I was really thinking about how much I'm going to miss you."

Mac smiled, "I know."

"Good," Boston said nodding her head, then turned back around.

--

Boston couldn't sleep. She had been in Nebraska for six days now and she was a little concerned about how much she missed Mac. She had kept her promise and called every day, but she still missed him deeply. His touch, his kiss, his laugh, his sarcastic remarks. Boston sighed and put her head in her arms. _I am going insane_.

"I knew I could find you down here." Boston practically jumped out her skin when she heard a voice behind her. "Little jumpy there, B?"

"Well, I was just in a bombing, Dad." Boston smirked and passed her dad the bag of Oreos as he poured himself a glass of milk. This had always been their tradition. Whenever she had had something on her mind, she would always find her way to the kitchen at 3am. Somehow her dad would always join her and they would share milk and cookies. He would quietly listen to Boston talk about whatever was on her mind and then he would offer his advice. It was something that Boston had missed after she had left home.

"Yeah. We were really worried," her dad said lightly rubbing his thumb over the scare above her eye.

Boston smiled softly, "I'm fine, Dad." She was staring off into space and silent for several minutes. Her dad knew she was contemplating something and waited patiently for her to tell him. "It's about Mac. Do you think we're moving too fast? Or is the age difference too big?"

"Well considering that you'll always be my six year old baby girl, I may not be the best judge of this." There was a mutual silence for a few minutes before her dad broke it, "You know, me and your mother were barely eighteen when we got married." Boston nodded her head. "Well, I bet you don't know that your mom's dad hated me. And I mean _hated_ me. He thought we were too young and immature and that I would never be able to support her. And here we are 42 years later, still going strong."

"You're saying that age is just a number," Boston dunked another Oreo into her milk.

"I'm saying that if the worst thing about Mac is that he happened to be born twenty years before you, then I say that he's a keeper."

"But are we moving too fast? We've only been dating for about five months and we almost always spend the night at each other's houses. And Mac asked me to move in with him."

"I'm going to forget the part about you sleeping over so that I don't have to kill Mac," he said taking a bite of a cookie. Boston smiled softly. "You've always been the independent type, B, and set your own path and pace. You ran before you could even walk. You shouldn't let things in your past, dictate your future. This is _your and Mac's_ relationship. Set the pace however fast or slow _you_ want."

"Thanks dad," Boston leaned across the table and hugged her dad.

"So tell me about Mac," he said.

"Well, he's amazing. He – "

"No, I want to hear his flaws." Boston scrunched her face and looked at him quizzically. "I've already heard all his good traits. But I think the true judge of a man is his flaws. Does he have any?" he raised his eyebrow.

"Uh, yeah, a lot of them. …He works a lot. I know that what he does is important, but sometimes he pulls really long shifts. He is way too neat. I think he may be a tad OCD. He always wakes up promptly at 5 in the morning. And he doesn't sleep enough. I don't know how he functions, because I am a monster if I don't get at least 8 hours. He's so proper that it's hard for him to loosen up, especially in public. And sometimes he's too overprotective. … He's a Cubs fan. He never lets me make coffee but the stuff he makes is way too strong. And he gets mad when I try and warm my feet on his calf." Boston was staring down at her glass of milk with a far-off look on her face.

"Your mother does that too. It drives me crazy." Boston looked up at her dad and grinned. "He called us."

"What?" Boston asked putting down her cookie.

"It was the night of the bombing. He said that he wanted your mother and I to know what had happened before we heard it on the news. You were still in surgery and nobody was sure if you were going to make it. Anyway, he told us exactly what happened and apologized." Boston frowned and gave a light sigh. "He apologized that he ever put you into the position where you could get hurt and then he apologized for not protecting you; for letting us down."

Boston felt her heart breaking and softly mumbled, "It wasn't his fault."

Her dad gently laid his hand on top of Boston's. "I know that, B. And so does your mother. And hopefully you set him straight," Boston slightly nodded. "That's not why I'm telling you this. I'm telling you because it was then that I decided he was worthy of you. He's a good man, B, and I can tell that he makes you a better person. So, if you do anything to ruin it, I won't stop your brothers from killing you."

Boston laughed, getting up to give her father a hug. "But, I'm the baby."

"I don't care," he said into her hair. "Go give him a call. I'm sure he'd be happy to hear from you."

"Thanks dad." She made her way back to her childhood room and quickly grabbed her phone from the desk. She dialed the familiar numbers and smiled when she heard Mac.

"_Taylor,"_ he barked.

"Hey, babe. It's me."

Boston smiled as his voice softened, _"Hey. It's late there; why are you awake?"_

"I could say the same for you. I had a lot on my mind and couldn't sleep." Boston climbed into bed and lied down, just listening to Mac's voice.

"_Wanna talk about it?"_

"No, my dad helped me. Where are you?"

"_Work."_

"Am I interrupting?"

"_No, I can talk for a few minutes."_

"When do you get off?"

"_Four hours ago."_

"Mac! When was the last time you slept?"

"_I'm fine."_

"I'm not stupid. I know you, Mac, and I bet you haven't gotten a good night's sleep since I left. You have to take care of yourself."

"_I've gotten used to you sleeping next me; putting your frozen feet on my legs. But, I'm fine, don't worry."_

"I'll always worry. If you want, you can call me when you're getting ready to sleep."

"_What are you going to do?"_

"Sing you lullabies."

Mac chuckled, "_Please don't. I've heard your singing voice; I'd probably just get nightmares."_

"Excuse me? I've been told that I sound just like Mariah Carey."

"_Like a chipmunk version of Mariah Carey."_

"MAC! What a jerk." Boston laughed and then turned serious, "So, I've been thinking about it and, if you still want to…well, I think we should move in together."

"_Are you sure? I don't want to rush you."_

"I'd been thinking about it before you even asked. We're at the point in our relationship where we should take the next step."

Boston could hear his smile. _"I'm really happy. I love you."_

"I love you, too, babe. I'm excited; we'll have to work all the details out when I get back."

"_Definitely."_ Mac turned serious, _"Can I ask why you were hesitant at first."_

Boston sighed. She knew this was coming and that Mac deserved to know. "I lived with a guy for a year during college."

"_Really?"_ This was news to Mac.

"Yeah," Boston said softly, "We only dated for a month before we decided that we were so madly in love that we should live together." Mac was silent, allowing for Boston to tell him at her own pace. "It was fine at first. It was like we were playing house. But after a while it was like we weren't special to each other anymore. We started fighting about stupid stuff and stopped going out on dates. Then I came home one night and all his stuff was gone. He left a note saying he was moving to Florida with some girl he had been having an affair with for a couple of months. I just don't want that to happen to us. I don't want us to start resenting each other and I don't want you to move to Florida."

"_I'm not really the Florida type. The difference with us is that we're not kids and we actually love each other. We're not going to be playing house; we're going to be melding our lives together."_

Boston's heart swelled, "I know that. Really, I do. This is what I want. I just needed a little time to come around."

"_I'd wait forever for you... Are you having fun?"_

"Yeah, it's nice to be back. Me and Mom went into town today and guess who we saw? Jimmy Pritcher!"

"_Not Jimmy Pritcher!"_

Boston laughed, "Yes, Jimmy Pritcher."

"_Who is this Jimmy Pritcher guy?"_

"He was my first boyfriend. He was so hot. We used to make out in the attic of the barn were we keep the food for the animals. Dad made us breakup when he realized what we were doing up there."

"_How'd he find out?"_

"The floor of it broke and we ended up falling through. It would have been okay, except that Jimmy's hand was clearly up my shirt and all brothers had witnessed the fall. I broke my arm and got grounded for three months."

Mac laughed, _"Should I be worried that you're going to rekindle your relationship with Jimmy? Am I going to have to defend your honor and beat him up?"_

"You have nothing to worry about. He's a Catholic priest now. Even I can't lure a man away from God. But you could beat him up if you want, just because I think it'd be hot to see you in a fight."

"_I miss you."_

"I miss you, too. Just four more days."

"_Yeah. I gotta go. I'll talk to you later. Love ya."_

"I love you, too. Go catch the bad guys! And get some sleep. Please."

"_And you keep your hands off Jimmy Pritcher."_

"I make no promises."

A/N: Thanks for reading!


	14. Mackie

A/N: Over 100 reviews! Yay! Thanks so much for all of the wonderful reviews. Anyway, this is the most pointless chapter ever, but I still hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Boston.

--

Boston was sure that the world was working against her. Her return flight to New York had been delayed four hours due to the weather, and then when she finally got onto the plane she was squished between a middle aged man who was trying to flirt with her and an older woman who wanted to know every detail about Boston's life. Now, here she was trying to fight her way through the throngs of people to get to the baggage claim, where she and Mac had agreed to meet.

Finally, Boston spotted Mac leaning against a wall close to the baggage carousel. He was wearing jeans, a dark blue t-shirt, and his leather jacket. Boston always liked when he dressed down and often told him so. She had bought him the t-shirt in an effort to slowly infuse color into his wardrobe. Even from afar, she could tell that he was tired. His shoulders were slumped just a bit and his eyelids were droopy.

Mac saw her when she was just a few feet away. He grinned and pushed himself off the wall. He met her halfway and pulled her into a hug. "I'm so glad you're back," he breathed into her hair. Mac took a moment to just enjoy the feeling of her body against his. Once they pulled apart and Mac handed her a single rose. "Here, I got you this," he blushed slightly.

"Thanks, babe. That's really sweet. You look really hot and sexy in your jacket," Boston laughed when he turned even redder. "C'mon, they're starting to put the luggage out," Boston smiled and grabbed Mac's hand pulling him towards the carousel.

--

"How was your flight?" Mac asked as they made their way to the truck. He was carrying her bag in one hand and had a firm grip on Boston's hand in the other.

"Don't even get me started. Let's just say that you may have some competition," Mac raised his eyebrow. "The guy in the seat next to me gave me his digits and the lady on the other side wanted to set me up with her grandson."

"Oh?"

"Don't worry. One was a politician and the other a lawyer. I'd much rather stick with a detective. I like a man who packs a gun."

Mac opened the passenger side door for Boston allowing her to slide in before closing it behind her. He then walked around the truck and put her bag in the back. Once he was in himself, he turned to Boston, who was smiling. He cupped her cheek with one hand and grabbed her waist with the other. Pulling her closer, he kissed her gently letting his fingers slide under her shirt as Boston deepened the kiss. They separated before things got too heavy. Mac let his forehead rest on Boston's and whispered, "I'm really glad you're back."

"You already said that." Boston gave him another quick kiss and then sat back in her seat.

"Well, it's because I really, really missed you," Mac said, starting the truck.

"So…I'm starving."

"What's new? You're always hungry."

"Only for you," Boston said sexily.

Mac laughed, "To the diner then?"

"Yeah."

--

"Boston! It's been so long!" As soon as they walked in, Boston and Mac had been greeted by Gladys, the older waitress at the diner. They took their seats as Gladys kept talking, "We thought that Mac had messed up and you two had broken up."

Boston smiled at the blush that was covering Mac's cheeks. "Nope, I just went out of town for a few days."

"Well, we're all happy to see you. Mac was so gloomy without you. You shouldn't leave him again; it's clear that he needs you. You guys want the usual?" They both nodded and Gladys went to put in their orders.

When they were alone, Boston cocked her eyebrow and let a smirk play on her lips. Mac sighed, "I'm never going to hear the end of this, am I?"

"It's cute. I like knowing that you need me. Plus, I'm sure that if you talked to my parents, they would say that I was pretty gloomy."

"Somehow I can't imagine you gloomy."

"Sure, even I have bad days. There's just been fewer of them since you walked into my life."

Mac blushed at the compliment and quickly changed the subject, "What do you want to do with the rest of the day?"

She leaned closer and said quietly, "Spend it in bed with you."

Mac smiled, "Sounds like a plan."

Boston leaned back and smiled at Gladys when she returned with their drinks. "So…Where should we live?"

Mac smiled and took a sip of his coffee, "I figured that we'd live at your place. It's bigger and you've got rent control."

Boston nodded, "I don't want it to seem like I'm forcing you to move into my apartment. You can keep yours and rent it out if you want; I won't get mad. Or we could look for an entirely new place."

"Boston, you may have noticed, but I don't really care about my apartment. It's never been my home. Unless you want to move out, I wouldn't mind living at your place. It's nice."

Boston set down her drink, "Okay. But, we're going to redecorate. I don't want it to be my place anymore; I want it to be _our _place."

"Fair enough."

"But not too much black." Boston got a huge smile on her face. Mac sighed; he knew that face meant that she had just gotten an idea. "We could decorate in blue and red."

Mac rolled his eyes, "For the Red Sox?"

"And the Cubs. It'll show how we're melding our lives."

Mac grinned, "I don't care how you decorate."

"No! You are going to help with this, Mac." Boston said as Gladys came back their food.

"What is Mac going to help with?" she said as she set down their plates.

"How to decorate our apartment," Boston said with a smile. She could tell that Mac was already starting to blush and found a little too much delight in that fact.

"You two are moving in together? That's just wonderful! It's about time somebody put our Mackie into his place and made him settle down. You are truly a Godsend, Boston," she gave Boston a hug and then patted Mac on the shoulder as she walked back to the kitchen.

As soon as Gladys was out of earshot, she looked at a Mac and grinned, "Here that Mackie, I'm a Godsend." She couldn't contain her laughter anymore.

Mac wanted to be irritated with Boston, but hearing her laughter always made him smile. "What are the odds that you will never mention this again?" he asked once she had calmed down.

"Oh, Mackie, I think you already know the answer to that question!"

--

"Wanna see what I got you?" Boston asked, looking up at Mac. He nodded and she reached for his shirt on the floor. She put it on and made her way to the living room where her bag had been haphazardly thrown. She squatted down and started rummaging through its contents. Boston gave a shocked squeak when she felt Mac's hands suddenly on her thighs and his mouth on the back of her neck.

"Stop," she complained halfheartedly. He sighed and sat down next to her. "Okay, here," she presented him with a packet of Kool-Aid.

He looked at it for a second and then mumbled, "Thank you."

Boston laughed, "Kool-Aid was invented in Nebraska." Mac looked impressed and examined the packet closer. "And so was the strobe light," she said pulling out a mini strobe light and handing it to Mac. Turning it on, he laughed. She handed him a small, plastic tree, "Arbor Day was founded in Nebraska City. And, Buffalo Bill Cody had his first Wild West Show in North Platte, which is just 30 miles from my hometown and is also home to the Ft. Cody Trading Post. It is the best and/or worst souvenir shop in the world! It's amazing and horrible all at the same time." She gave Mac a plastic horse. "And last, but not least, 'cause you can't be a Cornhusker and not wear red!" she pulled out a red t-shirt for Mac.

Mac laughed, "Thanks, I love it all. I never realized so much happened in Nebraska. Got any other facts?"

"It's the only state with a unicameral legislature," she smiled and straddled his lap. He was taken aback a little by her forwardness as she pushed him until he was lying on the floor.

"Really?" he mumbled looking up at her.

She lied on top of him and started kissing his neck, "Yep. And the world's largest rail yard is in North Platte."

"You don't say," Mac whispered, moving his neck to give her better access.

"When there's a football game, the stadium becomes the third largest city in Nebraska."

"That's interesting," he said, letting his hands run up her shirt and around her back.

"The ammunition depot in Hastings provided 40 percent of the ammunition used in WWII," Boston said as she pulled Mac's shirt over his head. Mac grunted in response, and Boston began kissing his chest, "Spam's made in Fremont and…" Boston moaned as Mac ran his fingers through her hair. "And Nebraska has more miles of rivers than any other state." Mac's breathing became heavier as Boston worked her way down his chest. "Omaha is home to the world's largest indoor rain jungle." He ran his hand through her hair again, a little rougher this time. "Malcolm X, Warren Buffett, and President Ford are all from Omaha. And Johnny Carson grew up in Norfolk."

"Boston," Mac moaned. "You're really turning me on."

She laughed and lifted her shirt over her head, "That was the plan."

--

Later that night Boston and Mac were sitting on the couch. Mac had his feet propped up on the coffee table was reading a forensic journal while Boston used his body as a sorting table for her mail. She was going through her stacks of mail, reading some, throwing some on Mac's legs to be thrown away later, and putting the important stuff on his thighs. Mac looked up from the journal when he noticed that Boston had been quiet for too long. He glanced at her and saw that she had furrowed brow and a confused look on her face. "What's that?" he asked pointing to the letter she was reading.

"Oh," Boston looked up startled. "It's from the Smithsonian. They offered me a job."

"Really?" Mac couldn't hide the disappointment in his voice. "That's really good." Mac looked at the other mail that was currently residing on his thighs. He noticed quite a few had letterhead from museums. "When do you start?" he asked.

Boston looked up at Mac with a concerned look, "I'm not going to take it."

"Why? It's the Smithsonian. Shouldn't you be jumping at this chance?"

"Don't get me wrong, I love the Smithsonian. It's one of my favorite places on Earth, but, if I worked there, I'd be a small fish in a big pond. I want to work at a small museum where my voice is actually heard and it matters what I think," she set the letter in the trash pile and then looked up at Mac. "Plus, if you haven't noticed, the Smithsonian is in Washington."

Mac sighed, "You shouldn't turn down a job just because of me. You might resent that later."

"I already explained why I was turning down the job. But Mac, I love you, and I'm not going to throw away what we have just for some job. I can get just as good of a job here in New York. Sorry, you're stuck with me," Boston smiled as Mac leaned down to give her a kiss.

"Have you gotten any offers from here?"

"Only one that I'm interested in. It's for the Lower East Side Tenement Museum. It's only about 20 minutes away and it is amazing. It's so different from a regular museum; I actually studied it for my dissertation."

"What position would you hold?"

"Director of History. The Director of the museum wants to meet sometime next week."

Mac pulled Boston closer, "That's great. I'm really proud of you."

"What should I wear to the interview?" Mac groaned and threw his head back.

--

The next morning, Boston woke up and stretched next to Mac. She looked around and was surprised to see that Mac was still asleep. This was the first time that Boston had woken up before Mac. Even if he came in during the middle of the night after a long shift, he still always woke up promptly at 5. He must have been more tired than he let on. Boston took this time to closely examine him. He looked peaceful and tranquil. His features were relaxed, his lips were slightly parted, and his hair was disheveled. Boston couldn't believe that just six months ago, she didn't even know this man. Now, she couldn't imagine living without him.

After a couple of minutes, Boston carefully slid out of Mac's arm and off the bed. She quickly pulled on some jeans and a hoodie and made her way to the kitchen. She thought that she could make breakfast, but soon realized that all her food was expired. Sighing, she quickly scribbled a note and left it on her side of the bed.

Twenty minutes later she quietly opened the door of the bedroom and was relieved to see that Mac was still asleep. She carefully set down the bag and coffees she was holding on the bedside table, kicked off her shoes, and climbed back into bed. She ran her hands through his hair and kissed him gently on the lips. He moaned softly and then responded.

"That was quite the wake up call," Mac mumbled after they pulled apart.

Boston smiled, "I got you breakfast." Mac sat up, leaning against the headboard, and Boston handed him his coffee. "I wasn't sure what kind of muffins you like or if you even like muffins, and I felt kinda stupid, you know, not knowing what kind of muffin by boyfriend likes, I mean I should know what kind of muffin you like, but I don't – "

Mac cut her off, "Blueberry."

Boston's face lit up. She reached into the bag and pulled out a blueberry muffin, "There ya go." She handed it to Mac and pulled out her own muffin.

"Thanks."

"So, your birthday's next Friday. Do you have to work on it?"

"No, I have Friday and Saturday?"

"What do you want to do," Boston asked taking a big bite of her muffin.

Mac shrugged, "Just spend it with you."

Boston sighed, "C'mon Mac. We both know that I'm going to do something for you, so what do you wanna do?"

"I really just want to spend it with you. But no parties." Boston smiled devilishly, "I'm serious, Boston. No party."

"What about – "

"No party!"

Boston sighed, "Fine. …A small get together – "

"Boston!"

"Okay, okay. I'll drop it…for now."

Mac rolled his eyes and finished his breakfast. "I really don't want you to make a big deal out of it. I just want to spend the day with you. No big extravaganzas."

"Okay. I promise nothing too big. You know me, I like things simple."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

--

A/N: Thanks for reading!


	15. Birthday Boy

A/N: Thanks for the reviews and to **Isla de Muerta **for the fireworks idea. Enjoy!

--

Boston was seriously kicking herself for wearing a skirt in October. It was Wednesday and she had just gotten out of a job interview with the Tenement Museum and was now walking the few blocks to meet up with Mac at Cozy's. She had wanted to make a good impression and had chosen a yellow blouse, black skirt, and black knee high boots. Her outfit had seemed like such a good idea at the time, but now her legs were cold and her feet were starting to hurt. She gave a sigh of relief as she rounded a corner and found herself at Cozy's doorstep. She quickly pushed open the door and let the warm air wash over her. Making her way towards the bar she waved at Aaron, the bartender, who was already mixing her usual drink.

Leaning against the bar, she gave a little jump when she felt a hand on her back. She relaxed when she heard a familiar voice say in her ear, "Come her often?"

Boston gave a laugh and turned to face Mac. She looked up at him innocently, "Why Detective, are you trying to seduce me?"

Mac gave a nod, "Is it working?"

Boston put her hand on his shoulder and pushed herself up on her tiptoes. She seductively let her lips run against his ear as she whispered, "Oh, yeah. You are _so_ getting lucky tonight." She let her body rub against his as she lowered herself back to the floor. Giving a thanks to Aaron for the drink, Boston made her way to their usual table, leaving a very flustered Mac behind.

"How'd the interview go?" Mac asked once he had caught up with Boston.

"I start on Monday." She turned around to face him.

Mac grinned and pulled her in for a quick hug, "I knew you'd get it. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, babe. I'm really excited," Boston said sliding into the booth next to Dale's latest girlfriend.

"Hey Boston. This is Candie," Dale said pointing to the blond, pink clad girl next to Boston.

Boston smiled at Candie and stuck her hand out for her to shake. Instead, Candie pulled Boston in for a hug. Boston gave a shocked, "Oh! Okay."

"How do you spell that?" Candie said in a high pitched voice, looking at Boston.

"Spell what?"

"Your name, silly!"

"Oh, umm…B-O-S-T-O-N," Boston said trying not to laugh.

"Oh! That's like a city in Texas, right?" Candie asked taking a sip of a pink beverage. Boston didn't reply; she just stared at Dale and leaned closer to Mac. Mac instinctually put his arm around Boston and rubbed her shoulder. "I have to go tinkle. Wanna come?" Candie looked at Boston.

"Umm, not, but thanks." Once Candie had left everyone was silent for a minute. Then Boston spoke, "Well, at least she's smarter than the last one."

"Shut up, Boston," Dale said as everyone laughed. "Just because Mac scored with you, doesn't mean the rest of us will be so lucky."

"Here's a tip, Dale: don't pick up women at bars!"

"Hey," Mac nudged Boston. "We met in a bar."

Boston rolled her eyes, "No, we met through Lindsey. We just happened to be introduced in a bar. There's a difference."

"Well, why don't you set me up with one of your friends?" Dale looked at Boston.

"Are you kidding me? There's not a snowball's chance in hell!"

"Why?" Dale asked.

"Because I know you. You'll sleep with them once and then move on to another bimbo."

Dale objected, "That's not true."

Everyone around the table gave a chorus of, "Yeah, it is." Boston cocked her eyebrow, "Maybe once I think you're ready. Until then, you should go get Candie. She looks lost," Boston pointed to Candie who was standing near the bar, looking around with a confused look on her face.

--

"Hey baby!" Boston said loudly as Mac approached the booth. He had just finished the set and was heading to rejoin Boston. He immediately noticed that there were several empty glasses in front of Boston and Candie.

"How much have you had to drink?" Mac asked standing in front of the table.

Boston shrugged and then slurred, "I decided, why fight it? Candie's nice and those pink drinks are _good_. They taste like pink, alcoholic, goodness. Want a sip?" She thrusted a half full glass in Mac's direction, spilling most of it on her hand and the table.

"Whoa, there. I'm good. Are you ready to go?" Mac asked. He had never seen Boston this drunk before and was finding it hard to keep a straight face.

"Sure. He doesn't have a middle name," Boston directed the last part to Candie.

"That's un-American," Candie replied then shot up unexpectedly making her way for Dale.

"She's nice," Boston mumbled to Mac. "Oh! I _love _this song! Let's dance," Boston shouted scooting out of the booth.

"No, let's go home."

"No, let's dance," Boston stood up, wobbled a little and Mac quickly braced her with his arms. "You're really strong. And you're face is pretty. I really like you. C'mon, let's dance," she said pulling him closer.

"Boston, there's not a dance floor."

"Are you ashamed to be seen with me?" Boston said angrily. She tried to pull away, but ended up just flaying around.

Mac would have laughed at her, if he hadn't been so concerned with the fact that she actually thought he was ashamed of her. No words come to his mind, so he just pulled her closer bending down to kiss her. Mac rested one of his hands on the small of her back pulling her in even closer while his other hand cupped the back of neck. The kiss was forceful and passionate; Mac wanted to be sure that Boston understood that he loved her and was proud to be seen with her. He relaxed the kiss when he felt Boston's hands on his back and in his hair. Once the pulled apart, Mac rested his forehead on hers and whispered breathlessly, "I'm not ashamed of you Boston. In fact I love knowing that everyone man in this place is jealous of me because I get to go home with you. I'm sorry I made you feel otherwise. And I'd dance with you all night long if that's what you wanted."

"Let's go home. You are _so_ getting lucky tonight," Boston giggled and staggered towards the door. Mac smiled, quickly grabbed her purse, and ran to catch her before she fell.

--

_I'm in hell_, was Boston's first thought the next morning. Her head was pounding and her stomach felt like she had just ridden on a rollercoaster. She faintly remembered that she had started drinking as a way to make Candie stop talking. Her plan had failed miserably, so then she started drinking even more to drown out Candie's voice. She also remembered Mac kissing her in the middle of the bar and then taking her home. Other than that, it was all a blur.

She moved to snuggle closer to Mac, but soon realized that he wasn't in bed. Feeling irked, Boston slowly opened her eyes and saw a note, bottle of water, and two pills on the bedside table. Slowly, she sat up and reached for the note.

Boston-

I got called into work and won't be back until after my shift.

I'll give you call if I'm going to be late.

Take the pills and eat something.

Love you.

-M

P.S. You're beautiful even when your drunk.

--

Country music greeted Mac as he entered the apartment later that afternoon. Boston loved country music and listened to it all the time. Before he had met her, Mac hadn't been a big fan of country. He thought it was too twangy and would normally switch the radio station if it happened to fall on a country station. However, in recent months, Mac had learned to appreciate the music. Boston had shown Mac that it wasn't all twangy or about honky-tonks. He wouldn't call himself a huge fan, but he could tolerant it enough to make Boston happy.

He followed the music back to the office and found Boston sitting on the floor going through papers. "Hey."

Boston looked up startled, but had a smile on her face. "Hey, babe," she said reaching over to turn down the music. "I didn't hear you come in. How was your day?"

"It was okay." Mac took off his suit jacket and sat down beside Boston. "How do you feel?"

Smiling, Boston put her hand on Mac's knee, "Fine. Believe me, I've been worse. Thanks for the note and stuff. It was really sweet."

Mac bent closer to Boston and gave her a kiss. "Do you remember anything from last night? I've never seen you like that. I have to admit, it was pretty funny."

"I try. I remember thinking that maybe alcohol could drown out Candie's voice and you kissing me, but that's about it. Did I make a fool of myself?" Boston looked at Mac hopefully.

"No. But you did have the idea that I was ashamed to be seen with you." Mac touched her face, looking directly in her eyes, "I need you to understand that I am not ashamed of you. It's not that I don't want to kiss you in public or hold your hand or dance with you; it's just that I'm a little uncomfortable with all that. But, I'm working on it."

Boston leaned in to give him a kiss. "I know. Really, I do. I know you're not ashamed to be with me."

"Good….So, you told me last night that I was going to get lucky."

"Did _I_ say that?" Boston smirked.

Mac nodded, "Twice."

"Really? And did you…get lucky twice?" Mac shook his head. "Well, a girl's gotta her promises. Why don't I make that up to you?" Boston said grabbing his tie and pulling him on top of her.

--

It was 11:55 that night when Boston quietly crawled out of bed. She quickly grabbed Mac's shirt and threw it on, not bothering to button it up. She padded out to the kitchen, grabbed her supplies, and made her back to the bedroom. Feeling proud of her stealthy skills and the fact that Mac was still asleep, she straddled his lap and stated kissing his ear the way he liked. When she heard him moan and grip her hips she whispered, "Happy Birthday!"

Mac moaned again, sitting up slightly, "Are you my present?"

Boston smiled, "Sure. I'll even let you unwrap me." She quickly stopped his hands from taking off the shirt, "But first, I made you this." Reaching over to the bedside table, she grabbed a cake in the shape of the soldier. The frosting was done to look like camouflage and there was one candle where the guy's heart would be.

"Boston," Mac breathed her name, overcome with emotion. "How'd you know?"

Smiling slightly, she shrugged, "I called your mom."

Up until he moved out, his mom would make him a soldier birthday cake. It was the one thing that Mac would look forward to all year. His parents would sneak into his room and wake him up at midnight presenting him with the cake. They would all eat a slice and talk for an hour before his dad would finally make him go back to sleep. He always cherished that special time with his parents when his sisters weren't around. As the years passed, Mac would seldom be able to sleep and he would eagerly await the sound of his dad sneaking downstairs to grab the cake. On his nineteenth birthday, he had been stationed in Germany, but his mom had sent him a package and told him to open it at midnight. Inside Mac had found soldier shaped cookies and a letter from each of his parents. His mother had continued that tradition up until he got married to Claire and had picked it back up after she had died, except when he was with Peyton. She had loved Claire and Peyton, and Mac smiled knowing that Boston had just won over his mother's heart.

"This is really special Boston. I can't even explain how much this means to me," he mumbled leaning up to give her a passionate kiss.

When they pulled apart, Boston shrugged again, "I'm just glad I kept it a secret. What piece do you want?"

Mac grabbed the cake and put it back on the table. "Let's have cake later. I want to enjoy my other present first," Mac said, running his hands up her stomach.

--

"Are we there yet?" Mac asked for the umpteenth time. Boston ignored him and continued to guide him forward. It was 6pm and starting to get dark. Boston had adhered to Mac's wishes and just spent a lazy day with him. They had laughed and watched movies and made love all day long. Tonight, however, Boston had some other plans up her sleeve.

She was currently guiding a blindfolded Mac though Central Park. When they finally reached their spot, Boston carefully uncovered his eyes and whispered, "Okay. We're here."

Mac took a second to let it all sink in. They were standing in the middle of a secluded grassy area and Boston had set up a picnic. There was a blanket laid out with a basket and two boxes off to one side. Several lanterns were lighting up the area. "Boston."

Boston smiled and pulled Mac toward the blanket and kneeled down. Mac sat beside her and gave her a kiss. "Okay," Boston said when they pulled away. She dug through the basket and pulled out two bottles of Mac's favorite beer. Next she pulled out plates with steak, baked potatoes, and corn.

"These are my favorite foods," Mac said in awe.

"Really? What a coincidence," Boston laughed sarcastically. "I made it myself."

"This is really good, Boston. And very romantic," Mac said in between bites.

After they were done eating, Boston presented Mac with two fairly large boxes. "What's this?" Mac asked examining them closely.

"Open them and find out. Open the big one first."

Mac carefully unwrapped the present and lifted the lid off the box. Inside was a black, leather guitar strap. It had a wavy design on it and in the corner, Mac saw a small inscription

M and B

Semper Fi

"I wasn't sure if your old strap had any significance to you. So, if it does, you know, you don't have to use this one, I won't get – "

"Boston," Mac cut her off, "this is fantastic. I love it, especially the inscription. It's beautiful."

"I'm glad you like it." Mac examined it closely for several more minutes before placing it carefully back in the box. "Okay, now the second one," Boston said giddily.

Again, Mac took his time taking off the wrapping paper. He smiled when he noticed the Boston was getting impatient, but continued on with his painstakingly slow pace. He cocked his eyebrow when he saw what was inside. He smiled picking up the photo of a black, lacey bra and matching panties. "I hope these aren't for me," Mac said, his voice huskier than usual.

"Well, they are for you…to take off me." Boston leaned closer to Mac and whispered in his ear. "I'm wearing them right now."

Mac gulped and took a deep breath, "You're going to be the death of me. This is all really awesome. The whole day has been wonderful." He was rewarded with a kiss. He pulled back only when he heard a loud boom. He looked up and laughed.

"Happy birthday," Boston said as the next set of fireworks went off.

"How did you manage this?" Mac asked craning his neck to get a better look.

"I have my ways," Boston said as she scooted her back so that it was pressed against Mac's chest and she was sitting between his legs. They sat there for ten more minutes, admiring the show. Mac couldn't believe that Boston had done all this for him; it was definitely one of his favorite birthdays.

--

"Why do I have to wear the blindfold again?" Mac asked twenty minutes later.

"Don't be such a baby. We're almost there," Boston said walking a few more steps and then stopping. Mac could hear her push open a door and then felt her hands pulling at the blindfold. It was still dark when he opened his eyes and he had no idea where he was. All of a sudden the lights flicked on and people popped up all yelling, "Surprise!" They were in the dinner and Mac recognized the team, his band, and a few other friends.

He looked at Boston who just smiled and shrugged. "C'mon Mackie, we both knew I was going to throw you a party."

"Hey, boss. Happy birthday!" Danny handed him a beer and slapped him on the back.

--

An hour later, Mac realized that Boston had been right all along. A laidback party with a few gifts had been the way to go and was the perfect way to end his perfect day. He looked up from his seat when he heard the door chime. Conflicting feelings raced through his body when he saw Reed. He was happy to see the young man. The two had gotten quite close but he still hadn't told Boston about him. He knew Boston wouldn't care that he had a stepson, but he just couldn't work up enough courage to tell her.

Mac excused himself and went to greet Reed. "Hey, what are you doing here?"

Reed handed Mac a small box. "I went to the lab to wish ya a happy birthday and they told me you were here."

"It's good to see you but you didn't have to get me anything," Mac said gesturing to the box in his hand.

"Sure I did, Mac. That's what people do."

Mac froze when he felt Boston's hand on his back. He turned to look at her and secretly wished that she would stop looking so happy. He took a deep breath knowing that the next twenty seconds would be some of the worst in his life. "This is Reed. My stepson," he said to Boston. Then turning to Reed he said, "This is my friend, Boston." Mac regretted the words the second they left his mouth. He felt Boston jerk away.

"It's really nice meeting you Reed. I would love to stay and chat, but I was just on my way out. It was nice meeting you. Goodbye, Mac."

She was already halfway down the block before Mac pulled his head out of his ass and ran after her.

"Boston! Stop! Please, I can explain!" Mac yelled after her.

Boston stopped so suddenly that Mac almost ran past her. Mac was taken aback by the anger he saw in her eyes. "Really? I would love to hear you explain this one. You have a stepson you never told me about? And I'm your _friend_?" Mac suddenly couldn't think of anything to say. After a minute, Boston gave a sad smile and said softly, "That's what I thought. Please don't come home." And with that she turned around leaving Mac standing there with a broken heart.

--

A/N: Shocking! Thanks for reading.


	16. Brotherly Love

A/N: Thanks for the reviews. Hope you like. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Boston.

* * *

"Boston. It's Mac. Please give me a call. I can explain everything. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Reed and that I called you my friend; I was just flustered. You're way more than a friend to me and I love – "

Boston reached over, picking up the phone and threw it against the wall, effectively cutting off Mac's message.

"That was a little dramatic," Boston heard Lindsey say from beside her. It was still the night of Mac's birthday, and Lindsey and Boston were curled on Boston's bed. She could faintly hear the TV on the living room and was glad that Danny was making himself at home.

"Why did he do this? He ruined everything," Boston cried.

"I know." Lindsey pulled Boston into a hug and let her friend cry.

"Why didn't he just tell me about Reed? I wouldn't have cared. I thought that I had made it perfectly clear that I don't have a rivalry with Claire. Why didn't he trust me? I hate him," Boston sobbed.

Lindsey smiled sadly and rubbed Boston's back, "No, you don't."

"I wish I did; it'd be so much easier."

* * *

Out in the living room, Danny was flipping through the channels hoping to find the latest sports scores. It had been two hours since Boston had called Lindsey crying, and since there was no way that Danny was going to let his pregnant wife out of his sight, the two of them had made their way to Boston's apartment.

He couldn't understand what Mac's problem was. There was no excuse for him not to tell Boston about Reed and Danny couldn't understand why Mac would even keep it a secret. Boston wouldn't have had a problem with it. She knew that Mac had had a life before her and she wasn't jealous of that fact.

Danny was torn from his thoughts when there was a knock at the door. He sighed, knowing it was Mac, and made his way to the door. Sure enough, when Danny opened the door, Mac was standing on the other side. He only opened the door wide enough so that he could talk to Mac, but not so that Mac would think that he could come in.

Mac looked tired and older than usual and Danny almost felt sorry for him. "Hey, Danny."

"Mac."

Mac sighed, knowing that Danny wasn't going to make this easy on him. He was tired, felt horrible, and all he wanted to do was the one thing he couldn't: see Boston. "Can I come in?"

Danny reached down beside the door and picked up a bag. Mac recognized it as his own duffel bag that he had used to pack his overnight stuff when he and Boston had first started spending the night together. "Lindsey packed this for you. It should last a couple of days." He thrust the bag at Mac.

"Danny, I just need to talk to her," Mac pleaded throwing the bag down.

Danny stepped out in the hall, shutting the door behind him. "Look, Mac. I respect you a lot, but right now you're not my boss, you're just the guy the broke my friend's heart," he snarled. Mac took a slight step back as Danny continued. "You messed up, big time. You devastated that girl for _no_ reason. So, no, you can't talk to her. You destroyed one of the best things that's ever happened to you and you don't deserve a second chance."

For a second Danny thought Mac was either going to cry or punch him, but he just reached down and grabbed his bag. He looked at Danny and nodded slowly, "You're right, Danny. I don't deserve her. But I love her and I'm not giving up on us."

* * *

A few weeks after their breakup, Boston had called Mac and let him know when he could come and pick up his stuff. When Mac arrived he saw that she had packed up all his belongings and stacked them up next to the door. He was hoping that she would be here so that they could talk, but he quickly realized that she was probably at her new job. Looking around he noted that she had taken down all of the pictures of them together and some of knick knacks that they had bought.

Sitting down on the couch, he buried his head in his hands. He didn't know how things got so out of control. It wasn't that he had intentionally kept Reed a secret, he just didn't know how to approach the topic and then before he knew it they had been dating for several months and it seemed like too much time had passed. Now he had ruined that one good thing in his life. The past few weeks had been horrible. He couldn't sleep and rarely felt like eating. He knew was slipping back into his old habits and that depressed him even more. He had become more snippy at work and hated that fact that Adam always cringed whenever he entered the lab.

He knew that he couldn't let her slip out of his life, but he never got the chance to talk to her. She avoided his calls and he would never barge in on her. Even, if he did have the opportunity, he wasn't sure that the right words would come. An idea dawned on him and he quickly went on in search for a pen and piece of paper.

* * *

Boston took a deep breath as she unlocked her door. She knew that Mac would respect her enough to be gone before she arrived, but she he didn't want to see his stuff gone. That would mean that they were really over.

Slowly pushing open her door, her eyes started watering when she noticed all his boxes were gone. She made a B-line for her bedroom and flopped down on the bed crying and was a little surprised that she even had any tears left.

Later that evening she finally made her way out to the living room and that's when she noticed an envelope on the coffee table. Sighing, she sat down on the couch and grabbed the note. After a few minutes, Boston had finally gained the courage to open the envelope and pull out the letter inside. She recognized Mac's handwriting and lightly ran her thumb over it, before reading it.

_Boston –_

_You, more than anyone, know that I'm not a master of words, but I need you to know that I never meant to hurt you. These last six months have been some of the best in my life. You make me so happy and you challenge me and you make me want to be a better person. I love you more than I can explain and I know I don't deserve a second chance, but I do want to try and explain myself._

_Claire had Reed right after her high school graduation. She gave Reed up for adoption but she never stopped thinking about him. She talked about him a lot and always said she wanted to get into contact with him when he turned 18. But, obviously, she died before she had the chance. Two years ago, Reed came to find Claire and found me instead. Since then, we've developed a bond that is hard to explain, but he's like a son to me._

_It's a hard subject to bring up, so I wanted to wait to tell you until I was sure we were going to last. But then things were going so well that I didn't want to ruin it. Logically I knew you wouldn't be bothered by Reed, but there was always a voice in the back of my head saying that you would think I had too much baggage and that I wasn't worth all the trouble._

_When Reed came to my birthday party, I was so worried about how you would take it, that I just fumbled and said you were my friend. I regretted it the minute I said it and I would give everything to take it back. To take it all back. I was completely wrong and you have absolutely every right to hate me because I messed up. But I'm not giving up on us. I'll wait forever for you and I hope that eventually you can forgive me. I love you more than you'll ever know._

_Love,_

_--Mac_

Boston reread the letter three times before her phone rang and drew her attention. She looked at her caller-id, saw that it was her sister, and decided that she wouldn't answer it. Her family knew about her and Mac breaking up, and she didn't feel like hearing her sister rant about what an ass Mac was.

The answering machine clicked on, _"Boston, it's Jone. Dad's been in an accident. You – "_

Hearing those words, Boston quickly picked up the phone. "Jone. What's wrong?"

_"Hey, B. Dad was in an accident on his tractor."_

"Is he okay?" Boston felt tears streaming down her cheeks.

_"He's still in surgery, but he'll live. Can you come out?"_

Boston was already making her way to her computer to look up flights. "Yeah, I'll be out on the soonest flight. Tell everyone I love them."

* * *

Mac looked up when he heard a knock on his office door and saw Lindsey standing just outside. "Hey, Mac, can I talk to you for a sec?" He nodded at Lindsey and she walked into the office taking a seat.

"What can I do for you, Lindsey?" Mac asked leaning back in his chair.

Lindsey took a deep breath and smoothed out her pants, "I really shouldn't be saying anything and Boston will kill me when she finds out I told you," Mac's breath hitched at Boston's name. "But, I think you should know. She got your note and was going to call you, but then her dad was in an accident and she went back home to Nebraska. She's really torn up about you guys, Mac, but I think she's coming around."

"Is her dad okay?" Mac's heart broke for Boston. He knew that they were really close and Boston would be devastated if anything happened to him.

"Yeah. He'll be fine, but I think she could really use your support now," Lindsey stood up and walked out of Mac's office not waiting for his response.

Mac wasn't sure what to do. What if Boston didn't want him around? What if she hadn't forgiven him? _To hell with it. If she doesn't want me around, she's going to have to tell me to my face,_ Mac thought as he quickly picked up his phone and dialed a few numbers.

"Hey, Stell, can you come to my office right now?"

* * *

Boston was sitting on the porch swing with her nephew, Manny, when they heard a car coming down the gravel road. She had been in Nebraska for three days and had thought of calling Mac every day but had managed to come up with an excuse not to each time.

"Do you think it's the mailman?" Manny asked bouncing a little in the swing.

Boston smiled, "I doubt it. It's a little early for the mailman."

The car pulled around a corner and Boston immediately recognized Mac in the driver's seat. She stood up and looked at Manny, "Go inside and help Grandma finish lunch."

"Who is it?" he asked walking toward the door.

"Just go inside, please." Boston opened the door, gently pushed him inside, and closed it again behind him. Boston took a deep breath before turning back around. By now Mac had parked and was standing beside his rental car. "What are you doing here?" She folded her arms across her chest.

"I heard about your dad. Is he alright?" Mac asked taking a step closer to Boston.

He was startled at her reaction. She jumped down from the porch and her face was a mix of anger and sadness. "You…Why?" Boston yelled. "Why are you so thoughtful? Why'd you have to come here? Why'd you have to ask about my dad?"

"Boston." Mac reached for Boston, but she jerked away.

"No! Don't touch me," she yelled and Mac dropped his hands. He could see tears welling up in her eyes and it took all of his self control to resist the urge to reach out and comfort her. "Why didn't you tell me about Reed? It doesn't change my feelings about you."

"I know," Mac said softly.

"Why'd you ruin us? We were doing so well and you had to go and destroy it."

"I know."

Boston clutched her side and covered her face. Mac could tell that she was crying and he took a small step forward. "I'm so mad at you, Mac. I didn't deserve this."

"I know," Mac's voice cracked.

Boston was silent for several minutes as she regained her composure. She took a deep breath and looked up at Mac. "I read your letter…You should have just told me...We can't have any more secrets. And you have to talk to me, even about topics your uncomfortable with...I love you Mac, but I'm still angry and you lost my trust."

"I'll work every day of my life to gain it back," Mac said softly.

"I know." She was silent for a minute. Finally she gave a small smile and Mac was sure his heart was going to explode in happiness. "You can touch me know." Mac didn't have to be told twice. He quickly covered the distance between them and pulled her into a hug. He relished the feeling of her body against his and buried his face in her hair. He could feel tears soaking into his shirt and he pulled back slightly. Slowly, he cupped her face and wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. He was about to lean in for a kiss when Boston mumbled, "My family's watching us."

"I love you and I don't care who knows," Mac whispered and touched his lips to hers. He let her set the pace and was pleased when she wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. They stayed like that for a minute until they heard the screen door open.

"C'mon you two, lunch is ready."

Boston pulled away and smiled, "That's my mom." She started to walk towards the house when Mac tugged on her hand.

He grinned and said softly, "Thank you for giving me a second chance… and for not giving up on us."

Boston didn't say anything; she just leaned up and gave him another kiss.

"Quit making out, Boston. I'm hungry," a deep voice yelled from the house.

Boston laughed, "That's one of my brothers."

"He sounds nice. I can't wait to meet him." Boston laughed and gave him another kiss.

"BOSTON!"

Boston turned toward the house and yelled, "Okay! We're coming." Turning back towards Mac, she took a deep breath. "Ya ready?"

"It can't be that bad, right?"

"Yeah, it'll be fine." Boston tried to look encouraging, but Mac knew she was lying.

"I'M STARVING!"

Mac couldn't help but laugh as he pulled Boston toward the door. He was nervous and knew that her family probably hated him, but he would endure their interrogation for a lifetime if it meant that he got Boston back. Mac took a minute to admire the house. It was warm and inviting and filled with pictures. It reminded him a lot of Boston's apartment.

"You must be Mac," an older lady pulled him into a hug. "I'm Nora, Boston's mom." She pulled him into the dining room leaving Boston standing in the hallway. "This is my eldest, Fen, and his wife Jessica and their son Manny, and then Jone and her husband Zack. You lucked out that the rest of Boston's siblings are in town."

"But I've already called them all and let them know of your arrival, Mac. So, they'll _all_ be here for supper," Fen said with a smirk and Jessica elbowed him in the ribs.

"Don't be rude, Fen," Boston said, taking a seat and gestured for Mac to sit down.

Mac took a seat, "It's okay. I'm looking forward to meeting everyone."

Zach rolled up his sleeves, "Not as much as everyone else is to meet you."

"Quit being a jackass, Zach. So, Mac, Boston tells us you're a cop. What's that like?" Jone asked, passing Mac the plate of hamburgers.

"I'm a crime scene investigator. So, I look for evidence and try to track down the criminal. It's –"

"Have you ever shot anyone? ...Because I have," Fen said with a mouthful of food.

Boston burst out laughing and Nora looked at Mac, "Ignore the boys and you may have noticed that my daughter has the tendency to laugh at inappropriate times; she gets that from her father."

"It's one of things I love most about her."

"You know what I love most about B?" Zach asked Fen.

"Her honesty?" Fen answered.

"Her forgivingness," Zach said.

"Okay, enough." Boston had stopped laughing. "C'mon, Mac." She stood up and grabbed Mac's arm.

"Boston. It's fine." Mac remained sitting down.

"No, it's not. You guys need to stop being jerks and stay out of our relationship. You don't know what you're talking about. And make sure you pass the message on to everyone else. C'mon, Mac."

Mac remained seated for a couple of moments before he rose. He gave a small smile. "It was nice meeting you all," he said and followed Boston out of the kitchen. On his way out he could Nora yelling at Fen and Zach. Mac followed Boston upstairs and into a child's room. She laid down the bed, but Mac took a minute to look around.

"Is this your room?" Mac asked walking over to the dresser and looked at some pictures.

Boston propped herself up on her elbows. "Yep. My parents kept all of our rooms the same as when we left them."

"It's very...you. I like it." There were soccer and 4H trophies everywhere. There were pictures of her family and several of the same group of girls. Two large bookcases were pushed against the far wall and were filled with picture and young adult books. Her desk housed an ancient computer, quite a few CDs and a couple of VHS tapes. The walls were painted light purple except for one which was painted like a chalkboard. "Is this an actual chalkboard?"

"Yeah. There's a certain type of paint that makes a wall a chalkboard. That was one of my birthday presents when I turned thirteen."

There were still messages written on it and Mac laughed when he saw one that read _I love Jimmy P._ He pointed at the message and glanced at Boston, "Is this _the_ Jimmy Pritcher?"

Boston laughed, "Yeah. He was so hot."

"So I've heard." Mac hadn't even noticed that Boston had moved off the bed, but soon she was by his side and was handing him a piece of chalk. Mac cocked his eyebrow looking at it.

"Go ahead. Leave your mark," she said softly and Mac couldn't help but lean down and kiss her. He grabbed the chalk from her and looked for a good spot. He took several minutes to find the right words and stepped back to show Boston what he had written. She smiled when she saw _M and B, Semper Fi_ written neatly in the middle of her wall. "It's perfect," she said giving Mac another kiss.

After they pulled apart, Mac hugged her and whispered, "Thank you."

"For what?" Boston's breath tickled the side of his neck.

"For everything. For not making me leave. For taking me back. For giving me another chance. I won't mess up again, Boston. I promise, I'll do better. I'll treat you better and I won't make you regret this."

"I know you won't."

"I love you _so_ much," Mac whispered into her ear.

"I love you, too, Mac." There was a knock at the door and Boston pulled away. "Come in."

Nora popped her head in, "I don't want to disturb."

Boston smiled and sat back down on the bed, "It's fine, Mom."

The answer seemed to satisfy her, because Nora pushed the door open wider and stepped in. She handed them each a plate full of food. "You didn't get to eat much and I figured you were hungry from the flight. I wasn't sure what you liked, so I gave you a little of everything," she said to Mac.

"It all looks great. Thank you." Mac took a seat next to Boston and Nora made her way to the desk chair.

"I hope you'll be staying here," Nora said.

"Oh, no, I don't want to impose," Mac objected.

Nora smiled, "That wasn't a question, Mac. I was telling you that you _will _be staying here." Mac smiled at how much Nora reminded him of Boston. "I'm so glad you two have worked things out. I don't like that you hurt my baby, but I appreciate the fact that you came all this way to fight for her."

Boston quickly noticed that Mac was at a loss for words and stepped in, "We're good, Mom. But, I don't want dinner tonight to turn into an interrogation with smartass remarks."

"Why would you think that?" Nora asked innocently.

"Because I've met our family and they can be overprotective jerks," Boston said taking another bite of her hamburger.

"I'll do my best to control them, but I make no promises. Everyone else left for the rest of the day and me and Manny are going into town. Will you two be okay alone?" Nora stood up and headed for the door.

"I think we'll manage. Thanks for the food Mom," Boston said and Mac nodded with a mouthful of food.

On her way out she turned and gestured toward the chalkboard wall, "Oh, and I like your message, Mac." Mac smiled and nodded his head.

* * *

They spent the next hour cuddling and kissing with little talking. Boston had quickly informed Mac that she thought they should go slow and he had agreed. Boston currently had her head on Mac's chest and was drawing designs with her finger into his skin. Letting his fingers run through her hair, Mac looked down at Boston and smiled. He was so happy and felt so lucky that she had taken him back. A few minutes later, Mac said softly, "Tell me about our family." He felt Boston smile into his skin and savored the sensation.

"Well, you met my mom and my dad, Jerry, will be back tonight," she mumbled into his chest.

"How is he doing?"

"Well, he fell off the tractor and cut up his leg pretty bad. They managed to save it, but he's in a wheelchair and has to go to physical therapy. He should be back to normal in a couple of months." Boston was silent for a few minutes and Mac pulled her closer, offering some support. Taking a breath, she continued on, "Fen is the oldest. He's real name is Fenway Parker."

Mac chuckled, "After Fenway Park; that's clever. I kinda thought you were kidding when you said all your siblings were named after the Red Sox."

"I never joke about the Red Sox. He and Jessica have been married for twenty-three years and have Jackson and Sidney who are both in college and then little Manny, who's five. Then there is Jone and Zack who have two girls, Sammy and Lola. You'll meet them tonight. Me and Sammy usually play soccer together. She's really good."

"Who is Jone named after?"

"Her name is actually Jones, like J-O-N-E-S. She's named after Jake Jones. He only played for the Sox for two seasons, but my dad loves him because after Pearl Harbor happened, Jake put his career on hold and enlisted in the Navy."

"That is impressive."

"Next up is Ski. He's named after Carl Yastrzemski. He's married to Jenna and they have three kids, Carl, JJ, and Paul. Oh, I forgot to mention that Fen, Zach, and Ski all work for Dad, here at the farm, but they all live in town.

"Then there is Ted."

"After Ted Williams?"

"Very good," he earned a kiss on the chest. "He's married to Ava and they have five kids, Austin, Ethan, Lauren, Chloe, and Alex. Those kids are loud, too. So, be careful.

"And last is Cy, after Cy Young. He's married to Isabella. They only have one kid, Zoey, but Bella is pregnant."

"I hope there's not going to be a quiz?" Mac said, rubbing Boston's back.

She laughed, "I'll help you. Are you nervous?"

"A little. But, I figure that they probably can't hate me anymore than they already do, so it can only go uphill from here." Boston leaned up and gave him a kiss.

"You'll do great. If it makes you feel better, I can tell that Jone and my mom already like you."

"Thanks."

"How long are you staying?" Boston asked.

"However long you are."

Boston smiled, "Good answer...I'm leaving on Sunday."

"And it's Tuesday now, so we have," he quickly did the math, "five more days."

"Should you be away from the lab that long?"

"I think Stella can hold down the fort."

Boston smiled as she scooted up Mac's body and laid on top of him. "You wanna make out some more?"

Mac smirked, "You're so romantic." But he let his hands run under her shirt and leaned up to kiss her.

* * *

"Boston, honey. You guys need to wake up. Supper's almost ready," Boston heard her mom whisper in her ear. It took her a minute to recall where she was. She and Mac had fallen asleep shortly after she had told him about her family. They had adjusted in their sleep and now Mac was lying on his stomach with one hand flopped over Boston, covering her stomach and holding her hand. "You guys look so cute together," her mom said on her way out.

"Mac. We need to get up," she heard him grumble and pull her in closer. She laughed and snuggled closer, running her hand over his back. All of a sudden the door burst open and in walked Ski, Cy, and Ted.

Ski yelled, "Rise and shine, Mackie boy. It's time to meet the family."

Mac jolted up and Boston firmly said, "Get out. Now."

"C'mon B, don't be like that," Cy said taking a seat on the foot of the bed. "We just wanna meet your lover boy. How are you are Mac. I'm Cy. I can bench press 300 pounds and am significantly younger than you. So, I'm pretty sure that I could take you."

"Get out Cy. And quit with the threats. I've beat you up before, and I'll do it again," Boston said pushing Cy off the bed.

"I was six and my arm was broken!"

"Give them a few minutes," Nora yelled from the bottom of the stairs. When nobody moved she yelled again, "Cy, Ted, and Ski, get down here now."

"We'll see you down there, Mackie," Ted said as they made their way downstairs.

Once they were alone, Mac fell back down on the bed, "Somehow, I like it better when _you_ call me Mackie."

Boston laughed, gave him a quick kiss, and patted his stomach, "C'mon Mackie. We better go." Mac groaned but pushed himself off the bed and ran his hand through his hair. Boston grabbed his hand and gave it a quick squeeze before she led him downstairs.

Once they reached the dining room, Boston led them to the two empty chairs squashed between Boston's dad, Jerry, and Ski. The chatter died down upon their entry and Boston gave a smile, "Everyone this is Mac." She then proceeded to point out everyone to Mac.

"It's nice to meet you all," Mac said, taking his seat.

Jerry smiled, "Well, it's nice to meet you too, Mac. Boston's told us a lot about you."

"Yeah, _A LOT_ about you," Zach scowled.

Mac looked at Boston with a smile and she just shrugged, "I was really mad to you."

Mac reached for her hand under the table and gave it a small squeeze. "It's okay. You had every right to be."

"Well at least we can all agree on the fact that you're an asshole," Ted smiled.

"Enough." Nora slammed her fork down. "There will be no more talk about Mac. How's your new job going, B?"

* * *

"So...last night went well," Nora said pouring herself another cup of coffee. Boston's siblings had spent the night at her parent's house. The kids had already left for school, Jerry was still asleep, and the rest of the men, including Mac, went out for a run. The women were in the kitchen preparing breakfast.

"No, it didn't," Boston scoffed, "It went terrible."

"The boys really do like Mac. The just want to give him a hard time," Jessica said as she cooked the eggs.

"You're their baby sister, B. They just want to protect you and make sure Mac won't hurt you again." Bella laughed as Boston rolled her eyes.

"Well, Mac feels like a complete asshole already. He doesn't need the fact that he made a mistake shoved in his face every twelve seconds," Boston slammed the refrigerator door a little harder than necessary.

"That's fair enough. I'll talk to Ted," Ava smiled.

Jenna patted Boston's back, "At least they invited Mac to jog with them."

Boston nodded, "I guess."

"He's really smart," Ava said out of nowhere.

"Yeah, and I was impressed how he took everything. You can tell he has a lot of integrity," Jone said as she pulled some toast from the toaster.

Nora smiled as she watched the girls continue to cheer Boston up. Twenty minutes later, they heard the men coming up the gravel road. Boston was leaning against the door jam between the entranceway and the kitchen when she saw Mac. She immediately set her coffee cup down and ran to him, "Oh my god, Mac! Are you okay?" All the other women went to look what all the fuss was about and gasped at the sight of Mac. He had a nasty red eye, but Boston knew it would soon turn black. There was a cut above the same eye that was oozing blood down the side of his face, a bloody nose, a cut on his cheek, and a fat lip. She could also see blood seeping from underneath his white shirt. She looked at her brothers' bloody hands and yelled, "You beat up my boyfriend? Are you kidding me?" In a softer tone she said to Mac, "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up."

He followed her into the bathroom and sat down on the edge of the bathtub. "It looks worse than it really is."

She started rummaging through the medicine cabinet. Turning around, Mac saw tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry. This shouldn't have happened. I'm sorry."

He stood up and walked over to her. He gently touched her face. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I would have done the same thing if one of my sisters' boyfriends would have treated them like I treated you. I'll be fine."

Boston wiped her tears and smiled, "I'd kiss you, but it'd probably hurt."

"I wouldn't mind," Mac said leaning closer and Boston closed the distance between them. When they pulled apart, Mac whispered, "I love you."

"Love ya, too. Okay, take a seat." Boston pushed him to sit down again. "I'm going to get Ava; she's a nurse and can probably help you more than I can."

Boston walked back to the kitchen and saw Ava, standing ready with a first aid kit. Boston smiled at her as she walked past, "Thanks, Av." She looked up at her brothers and instantly got furious again. "You beat him up?"

"B, he hurt you," Ski jumped in.

"So, you decided to hurt him?"

"We just wanted to protect you," Ted said softly.

"Well, thanks, but I'm not fifteen and Mac isn't some kid who's trying to deflower me. Okay? I'm an adult and am in an adult relationship with him. He made a mistake and we're working through it."

"A mistake? A mistake is forgetting to call when you're going to be late. Not forgetting to tell someone that you have a stepson. How can you get over that?" Cy yelled.

"I'm not over it, but we're working on it. Because that's what couples do; they work through things...Listen, I appreciate that you guys care, but you have to let me live my life. I love Mac, and yeah, he screwed up, but I can get passed that because I want him in my life."

Zach looked up from his coffee and smiled, "If it makes you feel better, we actually like him now."

"Yeah, B, he proved himself to us," Ted said.

"How?"

"He didn't punch us back. He just stood there and took it like a man and kept saying how he deserved it."

"He didn't deserve that."

Ski walked over and hugged Boston, "We know that now. He's actually a good guy. We're going to take him into town this afternoon to catch the game."

"Is he going to come back with a broken kneecap?"

"No, but he may come back drunk," Cy laughed.

Boston laughed at the image and then stopped, "Don't you all have to work?"

Everyone looked around at each other and shook their heads. Jone finally spoke, "It's not every day that our baby sis brings home a man."

Ava walked back into the kitchen, "The patient is asking for you. He's up in your room."

Boston smiled and started to make her way out of the kitchen, "Thanks again, Ava."

"Hey, B," Ava called from behind her. Boston turned around and Ava continued, "He has a really nice chest."

Boston hoped she wasn't blushing too bad. "Believe me, I know." As she made her way upstairs she could still hear Ava talking about Mac's physique. She knocked on the door lightly before letting herself in, and closing it behind her. "Hey, babe." Mac was laying on the bed without a shirt and had his eyes shut. Boston noticed some bruises that were forming on his ribs, but overall he looked better now that most of blood had been cleaned off.

He smiled and looked at her, "Hey."

She laid down beside him and lightly touched his chest, "Does it hurt?"

"A little."

"Maybe some kisses would help," she said and softly kissed his ribs, barely touching the skin. She smiled when she felt Mac shiver under her.

"Feels better already."

"They like you now," Boston said as she continued to kiss his chest.

"Well, it was worth it then."

Boston looked up, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he said running his hand though her hair.

"You didn't deserve this."

"We'll just have to agree to disagree."

* * *

A/N: What'd you think? I probably should have prolonged the angst for a few more chapters, but I like them better together. Thanks for reading.


	17. Marine Confessions

A/N: Thanks for the reviews. Sorry for the long delay. This chapter picks up right after the last one. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Boston.

* * *

Boston had tried to stay up and wait up for Mac, but at one in the morning she had finally fallen asleep on the couch. He had gone to the bar with her brother's and still hadn't returned. She wasn't worried that anything was going to happen; she just didn't want to go to sleep without him.

Boston's phone ringing woke her up some time later. Groggily, she flopped her arm around reaching for her phone and was a little confused when she saw that Mac was calling her.

"Mac?" she asked, sitting up.

"No, this is Cliff, the bartender at the Cowboy Bar. There are six men here who need a ride home."

"They're all too drunk to drive?" Boston asked, holding back her laughter.

"Uh, I think they're all too drunk to walk. Can someone come and pick them up?"

"Yeah. We live outta town, so it'll take me a half hour to get there." Boston was already standing and looking for her shoes.

"Okay, they'll be here."

Boston quickly hung up the phone, pulled on her shoes, and ran upstairs. She gently pushed open the door to her parent's room and was a little startled to see that they were still awake. "Oh, hey."

"Is something wrong, B?" Nora asked instantly.

"No, but the boys did get drunk and I'm going to go pick them up," Boston smiled.

"It's 2:45. They're still at the bar?" Jerry laughed. Boston nodded and he continued, "Oh, to be young. Take the SUV."

"Thanks dad. I'll be back in an hour or so," she said as she walked out of their room.

Boston rolled her eyes when she heard her mom say, "Be careful, honey."

* * *

Boston could hear the men laughing even before she pushed open the door of the bar. They noticed her before she was two steps in. A collection of slurred, "B!" and "Boston" were shouted her way. She smiled towards the bartender who just nodded in her direction.

"Boston, this guy is amazing," Ski said with his arm around Mac. Mac looked at ease and a little disheveled wearing a goofy smile on his face. His shirt was untucked and there was a beer stain near his collar. Boston was slightly taken aback at his appearance. Normally he was so put together; even when the two of them spent a lazy day in, Mac always showered and got dressed properly. She supposed it was because he always had to be ready in case he got called in. It was refreshing seeing him sloppy and at ease.

"I know he is. Let's go," Boston said pulling on Fen's sleeve.

"Why'd you break up with him? He was devastated. He needed you and you just broke up with him. How could you?" Zach slurred loudly. Boston just scrunched up her face and looked at him.

"You guys should kiss and make up," Ted said with a mouthful of peanuts.

"No, let's go," Boston said pulling Fen up.

Fen jerked away and knocked over a chair, "No! Kiss him. You guys are cute together and you owe it to him. You did break his heart, after all."

Ted started laughing but suddenly turned serious, "We're not leaving until you guys kiss."

Boston sighed, and walked over to where Mac was sitting. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and started to pull away. Mac had other plans and pulled her in for a passionate kiss. He cupped the back of her neck and let his fingers play in her hair, while his other hand tugged at her hip and forced her to sit on his lap. Boston was sure that she was bright red. Normally she wasn't shy and didn't care who saw her and Mac kiss, but even she didn't want to make out in front of her brothers. When Mac finally pulled away Boston got off his lap and said, "Okay, well, that was nice. It's a good thing that you all are too drunk to remember that in the morning. Now, let's go." She had to bite back her laughter as Mac almost took a nose dive off his chair.

Twenty minutes later, and with the help of the bartender, Boston had managed to get all the men in the SUV and buckled up. Ski had reached from the backseat and turned on the radio to classic rock and all the guys were currently belting out some song from the top their lungs. Boston was a little surprised that Mac even knew the words and that he played a mean air guitar. Halfway home, all the guys except for Mac had fallen asleep. Boston felt him put his hand on her knee and rub lazy circles into her jeans with his thumb. She looked over at him and smiled. He was slouched in his seat with his head propped against the window, looking at her. She barely heard him when he whispered, "I like your family."

She smiled softly and wrapped her hand in his. "They are pretty great."

"I want to have a family like this." Boston was a little startled by this confession and Mac must have been able to read it on her face. "I wanna have a family with you, Boston. I wanna have a ton of kids and come home everyday to people who love me. And I wanna have that all with you. I wanna be married to you and be the father of your babies and…" Mac sighed, "I just wanna love you for the rest of my life."

"Let's talk about this when you're sober."

"Okay. You're so smart." They didn't talk for the rest of the ride home, both lost in their own thoughts.

* * *

Mac groaned and reached for Boston. He groaned again when all he found was a fistful of pillow. He lifted his head up and saw that the bed was indeed empty except for him. He glanced at the clock and noticed that it was 11:48. Flopping his head back down on his pillow he groaned again and debated whether to get up or stay in bed a little while longer. After a few minutes he pushed himself up slowly and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He had come to the conclusion that being in bed wasn't much fun without Boston beside him. He took his time putting on his clothes and brushing his teeth and was very careful not to make any sudden head movements. He had a pounding headache which was not helped when he turned on the bathroom lights. Groaning, Mac made his way down to the kitchen ten minutes later. He stopped just outside when he heard Boston and her mom talking. He was about to leave when he heard Boston ask quietly, "Is love supposed to be hard?"

He saw Nora let out a laugh and turn around to face Boston. "What do you mean?"

Mac watched as Boston let her chin rest on her palm and slump forward in the seat. She sighed, "I love Mac...a lot. But, it's really hard...loving him. He's so stubborn and private and...I don't know, it's just really hard sometimes." Mac wasn't sure what to think. He knew his private nature was hard to deal with. Hell, he had almost lost Peyton because of it, but he also couldn't change who he was. He _was_ private and wasn't comfortable with everyone knowing about his personal life. He had to admit that he had gotten better and almost everyone at the lab knew he was dating Boston and that he was happier than he had been in a long time.

He watched as Nora walked to her daughter and sat across from her. "Well, is it worth it? Is Mac worth the trouble?"

Boston nodded her head and didn't hesitant in saying, "Definitely. He brings so much to my life. He's…I've never felt like this before, Mom. I'm so in love with him but I also feel outta control...it's kinda scary."

"I get scared too, sometimes," Mac said softly, stepping into the kitchen. Boston turned her head and gave Mac a small smile while Nora slid from her stool. She walked towards Mac and patted his shoulder gently as she slipped passed him. Before she left, Mac heard her whisper, "Good man." He returned his eyes to Boston and walked towards her, leaning against the bar she was sitting at. Mac continued, "I get scared that I'm gonna lose you like I lost Claire. Or that you'll leave me like Peyton did. But whenever I feel like this, you're there to make me see reason. Sometimes you'll just give me a kiss or squeeze my hand or even look at me and I know that it's all worth it. Being with you is worth all the fear."

Boston smiled and tugged on Mac's hoodie pulling him down for a kiss. After she had pulled away, she mumbled softly, "I love how you can always make me feel better." Mac kissed her hair gently and wrapped his arms around her. They stayed like that for several minutes before Boston spoke into Mac's chest, ""I like your hoodie."

"That's funny, because if memory serves me right, you bought it for me." He was right. She had bought him the orange hoodie because she knew he would look great it.

"What can I say, I have good taste. You look good today." And he did. Besides the hoodie, he was wearing khaki cargo pants and his running shoes and Boston let herself admire him for a second.

"Is there something else wrong?" he asked. Boston just shook her head gently, so Mac pressed on, "C'mon, Bos. I know you. You always get quiet when something's on your mind."

Boston smiled softly, "That's the first time you've ever called me a nickname."

"No, it's not."

Boston looked at him and nodded, "Yeah. You called me honey once during the whole bombing thing. But other than that, you always call me Boston."

"That's 'cause I like your name. It's unique and...pretty. Just like you."

"Well, I like when you call me a nickname. It makes me feel special."

Mac tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear and let his hand rest on her cheek. "I hope you know that you're always special to me."

"I know."

Mac smiled and let his hand drop, "Good. So what's on your mind?" Boston stayed silent so he gently probed, "No more secrets."

Boston smiled and looked up to meet Mac's eyes. Taking a deep breath she finally started talking, "Do you remember what you said last night?"

Mac got a concentrated look on his face as he tried to remember, "I probably said a lot of things last night. I was fine until we started playing a drinking game, and then it all went downhill."

Boston laughed and playfully punched Mac in the shoulder, "I thought Marines were supposed to be able to hold their liquor."

Mac rolled his eyes, "Quit changing the subject."

Boston sighed and moved her eyes down. She started fidgeting with the salt and pepper shakers taking a few moments to rein in her thoughts. Finally she said softly, "Last night you told me you wanted to marry me and have a family."

Mac grabbed the shakers from her hands and nudged her head until she was looking at him. "That's not how I planned on telling you, but it's true. I'm not asking you to run out and marry me tomorrow, because we're not ready. But, I need you to know that I'm in this for the long haul. And when we are ready, I wanna have it all with you."

Mac looked a little nervous and Boston smiled. She put her hands on his hips and tried to reassure him, "It's good to know that we're on the same page." Mac grinned and leaned down kissing her.

Several minutes later, they finally pulled apart. "Wanna a tour of the farm?" Boston asked giddily. Mac laughed and nodded his head. Boston jumped down from her seat, grabbing his arm and pulling him out of the house. She laced her fingers through his and guided him towards a series of barns. "See that swing over there." Mac turned his head and noticed an old swing tied to a tree close to the house. "My dad made that for Fen and when I was little, Fen and Ski would push me and see who could make me puke faster." Mac laughed at the visual; he could just imagine a little Boston swinging high in the swing. Boston pointed at an old, rusted truck that looked like it hadn't run in years. "When I was eight my grandpa taught me to drive in that truck. He'd let me drive it when we went out to the back fields. Then, I accidently ran over Jone's favorite cat and I wasn't allowed to drive again until I got my license."

"I'll have to remember that the next time you drive," Mac grinned. Boston rolled her eyes but leaned up and gave Mac a quick peck.

"See that lake way over there?" Boston asked pointing off to the distance. Mac could barely make out a tree lined lake. "We used to go swimming there in the summer. I broke my leg once diving off a tree. My leg hit a rock and my dad was so pissed because my blood got into the water and killed most of the fish."

Mac pulled her into a hug and whispered in her hair, "I like seeing you like this. Carefree and at ease. I can just imagine a little Boston running around in pigtails, up to no-good."

Boston pulled away, "There's one more place I wanna show you." She guided him to an old, barely standing barn. Boston tugged the door open and started to climb a rickety ladder to a second floor loft area.

"Bos, What are you doing?" Mac asked, still standing close to the door.

Boston looked over her shoulder and smirked at Mac. "First you can't hold your booze and now you're too scared to climb a ladder. I thought more of you, Marine." She turned back around and continued climbing, smiling when she heard Mac start to climb up behind her.

Once they were at the top, Mac saw that several hay bales were stacked up and covered much of the loft. "This is where I made out with Jimmy Pritcher," Boston said taking a seat on a bale.

Mac groaned, taking a seat beside her, "I am really starting to hate this guy."

Boston laughed and leaned closer to Mac. She played with the strings on his hoodie and looked up at him seductively. "Well, I wanna make a new memory here." Mac groaned again, for a different reason this time, as Boston's lips met his.

Twenty minutes later, they had rearranged themselves. Boston was laying on the floor with only her jeans on. Mac was on top of her, shirtless, and was letting his hands roam all over her body. All of a sudden they heard the door slide open and her mom and dad's distinct voices. Boston and Mac pulled apart quickly and Boston's shot up to cover her mouth. She heard Mac mutter, "Shit, they already hate me enough, I don't need to get caught with you half naked." Boston reached for her shirt, but the shifting of her weight caused one of the boards to break. Before she knew what was happening, they were falling through. Mac instantly pulled her closer and shifted so that his shoulder took the brunt of the fall. They landed with a small scream from Boston and Mac instinctually covered her half naked body with his.

"Are you okay?" Mac asked quickly, his eyes darting over her looking for injury.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Boston looked up at her dad and smiled, "At least I didn't break my arm this time."

Jerry laughed and throw Boston's shirt at her, then looked at Mac, "That's where Boston takes her men to take advantage of them. I thought you were better than that."

Mac smiled and looked down at Boston, "Who could say no to this face."

"I hear that," Nora said pushing Jerry out of the barn.

Boston looked up innocently at Mac and asked, "Wanna make out some more?"

He laughed, leaning down for more kiss, then pushed himself up and offered Boston a hand up.

* * *

A/N: I think this was a really odd chapter. It's kinda pointless. What'd you think? Thanks for reading.


	18. A Few Good Men

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, they always make me happy! Today's Election Day here in the US and I figured since I started this story on the Independence Day, it was only fitting that I update today. May the best man win! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Boston.

* * *

It was Sunday night and Boston was sitting in a crowded café waiting for Lindsey to show up. She and Mac had arrived in New York earlier in the morning and he had promptly been called into the Lab. After unpacking she made her way to the museum to catch up on some paperwork. That's where she was when Lindsey had called her telling her she had super important news that could only be discussed face to face. Boston heard her name being called from behind her and turned around just in time to see Lindsey pushing her way through the crowd and waving.

"Hey, Linds," Boston said, standing up and giving Lindsey a quick hug. Once they were both sitting down again, Boston gestured towards Lindsey's stomach. "You look so cute pregnant!"

Lindsey smiled, "Danny thinks so, too. I love being pregnant, B. It's so much fun! And guess what?"

"You're naming your baby after me! You shouldn't have," Boston playfully shrieked.

Lindsey scoffed, "Yeah, right. Danny would never name my kid Boston. Staten Island, maybe."

"Plus, how could anyone live up to all this?" Boston said gesturing to herself. She frowned as Lindsey burst out laughing.

Once she had regained control, Lindsey took a deep breath and then said, "We found out the sex of the baby...It's a boy!"

Boston grinned and bounced a little in her seat. "That's so awesome, Linds. I can just imagine a little Staten Island Messer running around play baseball." Lindsey rolled her eyes, and Boston continued, "Seriously, have you thought of a name?"

"Yeah, we've agreed on Craig Paul Messer." Boston could see tears welling up in Lindsey's eyes.

Smiling softly, she grabbed Lindsey's hand and gave it a quick squeeze. "That's a perfect name."

"I think so," She was silent for a couple of moments before she continued, "Now you and Mac just need to have a little girl and then she and Craig could get married and it would all be perfect!"

"Can I tell you something? You have to promise not tell _anyone_; not even Stella or Danny. Mac would be horrified if he found out I was telling you this," Boston said seriously.

Lindsey nodded her head, "Of course. We are in the tree of trust."

Boston laughed remembering the phrase they had made up in college. "Okay...Mac and I haven't had sex since we got back together."

Lindsey's eyes bulged out, "It's been almost a week! You haven't had sex since before the breakup? That was like a month ago!"

"Can you keep your voice down, please? At first I wanted to take things slow and then I didn't want to have sex in my childhood room with my parents down the hall. And now Mac is working and I'm not sure if he'll come back to my apartment tonight. We never talked about moving back in together."

"Do you want to move in with him?"

"Yeah. I feel like we're in a really good place, Linds. We talked a lot over the trip and I think we're even stronger than before. So, yeah, I do wanna live with him and take the next step."

"Well, then give him a call and let him know that you want him to come over. He's probably feeling just as insecure as you are."

"When did you get so wise?"

"It comes with motherhood," Lindsey laughed, patting her stomach.

* * *

Boston was in a taxi heading home when she decided to take Lindsey up on her advice. She quickly pulled out her phone and debated whether to call or text Mac. Finally, she decided that texting was the best choice seeing as he was still at work.

* * *

Mac was sitting in his office when he felt his phone vibrant. He pulled it out and smiled when he saw that Boston had texted him.

_Hey babe. I can't wait to see ya at home. Just let yourself in and I'll be waiting. Love ya,--B._

Mac was grinning as he shut his phone. He had been a little worried about where they stood on the moving in front, but he should have known that Boston would be there to ease his fears. He had at least four more hours of work left, but he knew he'd work that much faster knowing that Boston was waiting for him.

* * *

It was almost two in the morning by the time Mac pushed open the apartment door. He tried to be as quiet as possible as he slowly made his way back towards the bedroom. He was a little surprised to see soft light flickering from under the door. Gently opening the bedroom door, he immediately spotted Boston sitting on the windowsill looking outside at the rain. She hadn't noticed his arrival, so he took the opportunity to admire her. She was wearing a silk robe and the candle light flickered off her hair giving her a heavenly glow. Mac's heart began to ache just looking at her. He made his way towards her and knew she had seen his reflection in the window when he saw her smile. He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in the crook of her neck. A few minutes later he heard Boston whisper, "Whenever it rains, I think of you. When you took the plunge and kissed me. That was the first day of the rest of my life."

Mac kissed her neck softly. "That was the hardest and the best decision I ever made. I am so in love with you, Boston Madison Waters." Boston turned around and Mac stepped between her legs. Staring into her eyes, he cupped her face and leaned down to kiss her. Mac felt her shiver under him and realized that her back was pushed up against the cold window. Reluctantly, he pulled away and helped Boston get down from the windowsill. Once her feet were on the ground, Boston tugged on Mac's tie, pulling him closer. At a painstakingly slow pace, Boston undid his tie and started to unbutton his shirt. "Boston," Mac moaned as she pulled his shirt out of his slacks and slowly let her hands slide up his t-shirt clad chest. She looked up at him innocently and pushed his dress shirt off his shoulders. She returned her hands to the top of his pants and pulled out his undershirt. She placed her hands under it and pushed it up. Mac raised his arms as Boston pulled the shirt over his head. Throwing the shirt to the ground, she gripped his hips and leaned in and placed soft kisses all over Mac's chest. She let her tongue dip into his belly button and softly outlined his scars. "Boston," Mac hissed. Suddenly, Boston pulled away and looked up at Mac. She could read the mixture of pleasure, love, and lust written on his face. She took a step away from Mac and slowly undid the sash that was tied around her waist. She saw Mac's eyes darken with passion as she let the robe drop to the floor. "Boston," Mac groaned again. He took a step towards her and let his hand lightly run over the edge of the bra. He had instantly recognized the bra and panties as the ones she had "given him" on his birthday.

"Is that all you can say?" Boston asked quietly.

Mac slowly backed her towards the bed. "Actions speak louder than words," he responded, gently laying her down on the bed.

* * *

"Danny and Lindsey are having a boy," Boston said an hour later. Her head was laying on Mac's chest and their legs were wrapped together. She was drawing hearts into his chest with her fingers.

Mac gently rubbed her hair and pulled her closer. "That's great."

"They're going to name him Craig Paul."

"It's nice."

"Do you know what it means?" Boston asked, tilting her head up to look at Mac.

He looked down at her, "No."

"Paul is Lindsey's dad. He was killed when she was just a baby. Craig is her stepdad's name. He married her mom when she was six and she thinks of him as a father."

"That's very thoughtful. I'm sure both men are proud." Boston smiled and laid her head back down on Mac's chest. After a few moments, Mac continued on, "I like Will...it's my father's name."

Boston kissed his chest. "I know how much he meant to you and I can't think of a better name. Will Taylor," she tested it out. "It's very strong."

Mac continued playing with her hair and said, "What do you like?"

Boston thought about it for a second. Finally she said, "You're gonna make fun of me, but I like Abraham...or Lincoln."

Mac let out a laugh. "You are _such_ a history geek." He laughed again as he bent down to kiss the top of her head.

Boston just shrugged and protested, "He's my favorite president. The capitol of Nebraska was named after him. He was the first president to have a beard and is the tallest president. He was the first president born outside of the original thirteen colonies and his brothers all fight for the Confederacy."

"Don't forget about the whole ending slavery thing," Mac smiled. "Sometimes it amazes how many random facts you can hold in that pretty little head of yours."

"You're one to talk, Mackie. I think that you know something about everything." Boston was silent for a second, and then she continued, "What girl names do you like?"

Mac gently rubbed Boston's arm, which was currently wrapped around Mac's stomach. "Well…I like," he took a deep breath, "Madison."

Boston looked up at him and smiled, "That's my middle name."

Mac laughed and gave her a quick kiss, "That is its main appeal." Boston playfully slapped his stomach, but stopped when Mac grabbed her hand. "What about you?"

"Mary."

"Mary?"

"Yeah, Mary. As in President Lincoln's wife."

Mac groaned. "You're too much. I love you," he said smiling at her as she met his lips once more. "Now we just need to work on actually having a baby."

"Well, I think we should wait."

"I agree. But we can start practicing now," Mac mumbled as flipped them over, so he was on top.

"Spoken like a true man," Boston laughed as Mac made his way down her neck.

* * *

A/N: One quick thing, I am going to post a one-shot about Boston and Mac called _September Tales_. Please go check it out. Anyway, thanks for reading this and let me know what you thought.


	19. Mini Messer

A/N: Thanks for the reviews. I hope you like this installment. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Boston.

* * *

The phone in Mac and Boston's apartment rang for the third time. "We should probably answer that," Boston mumbled against Mac's lips.

"Just ignore it," he said diving in for another kiss.

"No, really," Boston said trying to pull away once it had rang again and reached for the phone. Mac sighed and moved his mouth to her breasts. Letting her hand drop, Boston moaned and ran her fingers through his hair, letting them slide down his neck and grip his back. "Mac."

She reached for the phone again, but Mac grabbed her hand and moved his mouth lower, "Let the machine get it."

Thirty seconds later, the answering machine kicked on and Boston's perky voice could be heard, "_This is the Taylor and Waters' residence. We're either too busy right now or we just don't like you. Leave a message and we may or may not call you back. Toodles!"_

Mac looked up from Boston's stomach and smirked, "Is that really our outgoing message?" Boston nodded as a laughing Mac went back to work.

"_Guys, its Danny. Linds is in labor and is freaking out. She really needs you , B. – "_

Mac quickly grabbed the phone and cut him off, "Dan, which hospital?...Okay, we'll be there in twenty...No problem." Mac hung up the phone and crawled off Boston. "They're at St. Mary's. Get dressed. I'll go warm up the car." Mac was already pulling on a shirt and halfway out the bedroom door before he turned back and pulled Boston in for a kiss, whispering, "I love you."

"Love ya too," Boston said once they pulled apart. "Go warm up that car." She smirked and smacked Mac's ass as he walked away. He turned around and cocked an eyebrow. "What?" she shrugged, "You're hot. And I like your ass." Smirking, she winked at him and he let out a laugh. "I know, I'm a very awkward winker. Now, go. I'm about to be an aunt!"

* * *

"Thank god you're here," Danny greeted them as they exited the hospital elevator. As they made their way to Lindsey's room, he continued, "She's freaking out and nothing I say is making her feel better. In fact, I'm pretty sure it's just pissing her off even more. This is her room," he nodded towards the door in front of them.

Boston gently pushed open the door and smiled at Lindsey. "Hey, Linds. How ya feeling?"

At the sight of her friend, Lindsey broke down into tears. "I can't do this, B. I can't be a mom and take care of someone. I'm not responsible enough and we work too much and what if this baby turns out to be a serial killer?" Boston tried to hold back her laughter, but Lindsey noticed it anyway, "Stop laughing. It's not funny."

"It's a little funny," Boston smiled, grabbing Lindsey's hand. "You're going to be an awesome mom. That kid is going to have so much love in his life, that there's no way that he'll be a serial killer. Maybe a burglar." Lindsey hit Boston's arm and she could hear the men laughing behind her. "Seriously, remember when I was living in Reno and you came out to visit me," Lindsey nodded her head and Boston continued, "And you helped me give a tour of the museum to those kindergarteners. You were so amazing with them. You got down to their level and explained everything so simply and in terms they understood and you were so patient with them. I remember watching you and thinking how great of a mother you were going to make someday. Little Craig is going to be the luckiest boy ever, to have you and Danny as his parents. It's time to introduce him to the world."

Lindsey brushed away the tears from her eyes and gave Boston a hug. "You're right," she nodded. "I'm ready."

"Good. Me and Mac will be waiting to meet the big guy."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Mac and Boston were seated in the waiting room. Mac had his arm around the back of Boston's chair and was lightly touching her shoulder. After a while, Mac broke the silence, "I never knew you lived in Reno."

Boston looked up from the magazine she was flipping through. "Yep. I got my Ph.D. at the university there and worked at that the Nevada State Museum for a while."

Looking down at his shoes, Mac said softly, "Where else have you lived?"

"Umm…well, Nebraska, obviously, and then I went to school in Montana. I got my Master's degree from the University of North Carolina, and then I moved to Nevada. After that, I lived in Sacramento for a year and worked at the California State Railroad Museum. Then I moved here and the rest is history."

"I didn't know that. I didn't know _any_ of that."

"Mac." Throwing down magazine on the table next to her, Boston turned to face him. "What's wrong?"

Mac looked away from her. "I didn't know that! I should have known all that. I should know where you've lived and what you got your degrees in and where you've worked. I should know that!"

Boston smiled softly and laced her fingers through Mac's. Using her other hand, she gripped his chin and forced him to look at her. "You know the important stuff. You know that I like hot chocolate rather than coffee and that I like my popcorn extra buttery, but you also know that I'm a slob, so you always bring me extra napkins. You know the shampoo I like and that when I'm sick I only take Nyquil. You know that my favorite show is _Sex and the City_ and that I love the Civil War." Mac was silent, so Boston gently touched his cheek. "That's the important stuff, Mac. Do you know how special it makes me feel when you watch _Sex and the City_ with me even though I know you hate it? Or when you bring me home a book about the Civil War? Or when you notice that my toothpaste is empty, so you buy me a new one? That makes me feel so special and loved and wanted. We have an entire lifetime to learn all that other boring stuff. What matters is that we know the important stuff."

" You're right...I don't deserve you."

Boston smiled, "Nope. You deserve better... but I'm not giving you up."

Leaning back in his chair, Mac changed the subject. "Flack wants to ask Stella to move in with him."

Boston's eyes bulged out, "I don't know if she'll say yes. She's still kinda jittery about the Frankie and Drew things. "

"She told you about that?"

"Yeah, a couple of months ago."

"Well, I think it'd be good for her. She works a lot."

Boston burst out laughing. "If that isn't the pot calling the kettle black."

Mac rolled his eyes and playfully pushed her shoulder. "You've got to admit, I've gotten a lot better." Boston raised her eyebrow. "Okay, not this week…or last week…or probably next week, but overall I've gotten better."

Boston smirked and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "You're right," she nodded. "You have gotten better. Instead of working 80 hours a week, now you only work 70."

"How about we agree to disagree?" Mac asked holding out his hand for her to shake.

Boston leaned in and whispered in his ear, "How about you agree that I'm right and I'll let you finish what we started earlier today?" Mac shivered, half at the heat of her breath on his ear and half at the memory. He nodded his head slowly and Boston leaned back. With a smirk, she shook his hand.

"Hey guys! Is the little guy here yet." Boston and Mac looked up to see Hawkes, Adam, Stella, and Flack all standing in the middle of the waiting room.

Mac shook his head, "Not yet, but it's only been a half hour." Boston had called Stella right after Lindsey had been wheeled into the delivery room. Stella had promised to gather everyone and hurry over the hospital as soon as they could.

"It'll be nice to have some new blood out on the basketball court," Flack said plopping down beside Boston.

"I can't wait to teach him about the Presidents," Boston said.

Mac nudged her knee with his, "Especially Lincoln?" Laughing, Boston nodded her head.

"I feel like I just walked into some weird history foreplay," Flack said drily.

"Yes, 'cause nothing turns me on more than when Mac recites all the Presidents in order," Boston rolled her eyes.

"I can say the Periodic Table of Elements in order," Adam said.

"Probably not something you should brag about." Stella gently patted Adam's knee.

An hour later, Stella had pulled Boston aside to one corner of the waiting room where they could talk without being overheard. "Don asked me to move in with him!" Stella blurted out as soon as they were seated.

"And?" Boston asked.

"And I need your advice. I love the guy, but I always said that I'd have a safe place to go in case something went bad. Do you know what I mean?"

"Sure and I was that way before I met Mac. But now, _Mac_ is that safe place."

Stella smiled, "You are so romantic. It's kinda sick." Boston shrugged her shoulders. "Do you like living with him?"

"Who? Mac?" Boston asked.

"No, Abraham Lincoln!" Stella rolled her eyes.

Smiling, Boston nodded. "I love living with Mac. It's just nice knowing that he's coming home to me. Don't get me wrong, we fight about the house and how dirty I am or how he doesn't take out the trash or who's going to pay the bills. But it's made us so much closer. Now when we're pissed at each other, we can't run away to our own apartments. We have to deal with the problem head on. Plus, I'm not going to lie, the makeup sex is hot. Don't tell anyone this, but yesterday we got into a stupid fight about the mail and then had some crazy sex on the table." Stella cocked an eyebrow. "Don't worry; I'm pretty sure Mac used a whole bottle of Lysol on it afterwards." They were both silent for a few minute before Boston continued, "You do know that Flack would never do anything to hurt you? He is _so_ love in you. He's not like Frankie or Drew. He's a good man and obviously cares a lot for you."

Stella sighed, "I love him too. I'm just scared."

Boston smiled, remembering the conversation that she and Mac had shared a couple of months ago about being scared. "Have you talked to Flack about all this?" Stella shook her head. "I would," Boston continued. "I'm pretty sure that he could help."

"You're right."

_Where have I heard that before?_, Boston thought. To Stella she said, "Of course I'm right. I'm Boston."

"Danny!" Stella called over Boston's shoulder. Both women jumped to their feet and practically ran to where Danny was holding a pint sized baby.

"I'd like you all to meet Craig Paul Messer," Danny beamed. The little boy was the cutest thing that Boston had ever seen. With a full head of blonde hair and bright blue eyes, he looked exactly like Danny. Boston stared at Craig for a little while longer and smiled when she felt Mac rest his hand on the small of her back. She leaned back into his chest slightly and smiled when she caught a whiff of his cologne. Occasionally, she and Mac still talked about having a family together but Boston had made it clear that she wanted to married first, but that it was too soon for them to get married. Mac understood wholeheartedly, and never pressed her on that. Normally he was so cautious in relationships, but with Boston it seemed that they couldn't go fast enough. It had been like this with Claire, too. While he had been hesitant in the beginning with both women, once he realized the depth of his feelings for them, then he was all in. From the second he realized that he loved them, he was one hundred percent committed to them. But, he knew that Boston needed some time to adjust to everything, so he would wait patiently until he was sure that she was ready.

"Okay, Mr. Messer. I gotta take him now to get cleaned up and fed." Boston hadn't seen the nurse that was currently trying to pry Craig from Danny's hands.

Reluctantly he handed her his son and then looked at the team. "You can all see Lindsey for a minute."

* * *

It was nearing midnight before Mac and Boston made it back to their apartment. Even more than a month and half later, Boston still could not get over how awesome it felt living with Mac. After much discussion, they had finally decided to sub-lease Mac's apartment to Reed. Since Mac's birthday debacle, Reed had been spending a decent amount of time with Mac and Boston. Usually he'd join them for a free, home cooked meal and dazzle them with tales about what story he was currently writing. He and Mac would meet up for breakfast at least once a week at the diner and Boston had noticed that Mac always seemed a little happier on those days. On more than one occasion, Reed would come over to have dinner with Boston and Mac, but Mac would either be late or called away. Boston secretly liked these occasions because it gave her and Reed some one-on-one time to talk and Boston had grown to love the young man like a brother. When Reed had casually mentioned that he was looking for a cheaper apartment, Boston had broached the idea with Mac of sub-leasing his apartment to Reed. Mac had instantly agreed but feared Reed wouldn't be able to pay the rent. They finally decided to only charge Reed half of the rent and continue paying the other half unbeknownst to him. Reed had jumped at the idea and seemed truly happy the day that Boston and Mac had helped him move.

They decided that Mac wouldn't move any of his furniture. Mac wasn't personally attached to any of the pieces and he knew that it was important to Boston that they redecorate the place to make it their own. So, in one afternoon, they had packed the few things that weren't already at her place, moved him over, and christened the place. They had agreed to basically redo the entire bedroom, living room, and add a few new pieces to the office. The spare bedroom, dining room, kitchen would remain the same, at least for the time being. Mac, honestly, couldn't have cared less what the furniture looked like. All that mattered to him was that he got to return every day, without fail, to the woman he was desperately in love with. But, Boston had insisted that they pick out everything together and truly make it _their _home. The only problem was that they had both been super busy at work over the past month and Mac had been pulling more late shifts than usual, meaning that most days Mac was coming in as Boston was leaving. When they were together, the last thing on Mac's mind was redecorating. Needless to say, progress was slow.

"Hungry?" Mac asked, throwing his jacket over the couch and making a B-line for the kitchen.

"I'm starving," Boston replied, hanging up her own jacket in the closet and quickly doing the same with Mac's.

"Thanks, Bos. I was gonna do that later," Mac said peeking his head out of the kitchen.

"I know." Boston gave him a kiss before scooting passed him into the kitchen. She saw that he had pulled out all the stuff to make sandwiches. "Good choice, babe. I love sandwiches." Mac grinned and joined her to make his own food. He reached around her to grab the bread and let his body press against hers more than was absolutely necessary. "Soup and sandwiches were President Kennedy's favorite foods to have for lunch," Boston said, reaching across Mac for the mayonnaise, pushing her breasts into his arm. She smirked when she heard Mac's breath became uneven. "Two can play that game, baby."

Laughing, Mac pulled Boston into a kiss. He pressed her back into the counter with his body and pinned her in with his hands. After several minutes, Mac pulled away and took a step back. Calmly he said, "I win." The two finished making their dinner and sat at the dining room table with little conversation. All of a sudden Mac looked up from his chips and said, "You did good today.

Boston almost chocked on her food. "Okay, that's random."

"I'm serious," Mac said looking at her. "You were really good when dealing with Lindsey and me and it looked like you and Stella were having a serious conversation. You never cease to amaze me." He noticed a blush creeping into her cheeks. He liked that she was so modest. While she may always act so cool and collected, Mac knew that she hated receiving compliments and would often times shrug them off or pass them on to someone else. Yet at the same time, she was confident in who she was and the work she produced. Mac loved that she was discreet about her accomplishments, but at the end of the day, she knew she deserved the props. "You always know how to use your humor to calm people down. Ya did it with Lindsey, ya did it with me, and ya, most likely, did it with Stell. You're such a people person."

Boston took the last piece of her sandwich and said, "Well, yeah, I have to be. I am dating you, after all."

"Oh, because I'm so antisocial," Mac said sarcastically. He got up from his chair and slowly walked around the table towards Boston. He had a funny look on his face and Boston decided it might be best if she get up and move away from him.

But she was still going to egg him on. "You said it, not me."

"You think you're so funny, don't you?" he asked, still walking towards her.

She slowly made her way out to the living room. "Yes. Yes, I do," and with that short statement, she decided it would be best to book it for the bedroom. Mac ran after her and caught up with her just outside the bedroom doors. She let out a squeal as he looped an arm around her waist and lifted her up. He carried her to the bed and playfully threw her down. Giving a giggle, she looked up at Mac as he climbed on top of her.

"You're going to pay for that," Mac said as he straddled her and started to unbutton her jeans.

"Yeah?" Boston mumbled as she propped herself up a little in order for Mac to pull off her pants. She tugged on his shirt so Mac sat up and pulled it off, throwing it towards their closet.

"Yeah. Plus, you promised me early that we could finish what we started." Mac smiled as he helped Boston pull off her shirt.

"You are right. And a lady never breaks her promises. Now take off your pants."

* * *

A/N: Any thoughts? Thanks for reading!


	20. Christmas Whore

A/N: Thanks so much for all the wonderful reviews! Enjoy!

* * *

"What's this?" Mac stormed into the office of their apartment holding a wrinkled suit.

Boston looked up from the computer and scrunched her face, "Is this some sort of riddle? Because if it is, I'm gonna need a little more to go on."

Mac sighed and walked closer to Boston, "I asked you to send this suit to the dry cleaner last week."

"Oh, Mac. I'm so sorry. I completely forgot. I can take it today, before I head to work."

"Damn it, Boston," Mac snapped. "I have an important meeting today and I need to look professional, hence why I asked you _last week_ to do it. I should have known that I couldn't trust you to do even the simplest of tasks. You're so goddamn irresponsible."

Boston jumped up from the desk. "Now, just wait. That's unfair, Mac."

Mac cut her off, "I don't think it is. I ask you to do one thing and you manage to forget about it."

Boston was starting to get seriously pissed. "I've been busy. I'm sorry I'm not as perfect as you."

"You've been busy? Doing what? You sit at work all day and look up useless facts about the presidents. It's not like you actually do anything that benefits society, like, oh I don't know...solve crime!"

"You're an asshole," Boston said coldly as she snatched the suit from Mac's hands and headed out of the office. A few seconds later, Mac heard the front door slam shut. His shoulders slumped and he ran a hand over his face. He knew he was acting irrational, but he was stressed about this budget meeting with the Chief. He'd figure out how to make it up to Boston later.

* * *

Mac slowly pushed open his office door. He had just gotten out of his meeting and it had gone just as bad as he had expected. Mac started to take off his jacket and hang it up on the coat rack. That's when he saw his freshly pressed suit hanging from one of the hooks. It was the same suit that they had fought about this morning. Boston must have dropped it off and directed the cleaners to deliver it to the Mac's office. Sighing, Mac plopped down in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew what he had to do. Grabbing the phone, he quickly dialed the museum and waited impatiently for the receptionist to answer.

_"Lower East Side Tenement Museum. How may I help you?"_

"I need to speak with Boston Waters."

_"I'm sorry. She's not in her office right now. May I take a message?"_

Mac usually tried not to use his job to get personal benefits, but at this point he didn't care. "I'm Detective Mac Taylor, can you tell me where she's at?"

_"Oh, you're _that_ Mac. Boston's mentioned you before. She's over at the new exhibit right now, putting all the finishing touches on it. You must be pretty proud, you know, her designing everything for this huge exhibit and all in under a month."_

This was news to Mac. He had no idea that Boston was designing a new exhibit and, to be perfectly honest, he had no idea what kind of work that entailed, but it sounded difficult. "Oh, yeah. I'm very proud of her."

_"Do want to leave a message?"_

"No," Mac said. "Don't tell her I called. Thank you." Hanging up the phone, he looked at the clock. He was scheduled to get off at 4 this afternoon and for the first time in a long time, he was going to leave on time.

* * *

It was twenty minutes after five before Boston started collecting her stuff to take home. She shoved a few papers that needed her approval into her bag and quickly shrugged on her coat. As she was walking out she put on her scarf and hat. She wasn't really looking forward to going home and getting into another fight with Mac, but she also knew that he probably wouldn't be home for hours. It was on rare occasion that he ever got home before eight and Boston had grown accustomed to doing some work and preparing dinner before he arrived. As she was walking down the steps of the museum, she was looking down at her hands and pulling on her gloves. When she finally looked up, she stopped in her tracks at the sight before her. Mac was leaning against his truck holding a bouquet of lilacs. He pushed himself off his truck and handed her the flowers as she neared. Hesitantly reaching for them, Boston stole a moment to smell them. "Lilacs are President Lincoln's favorite flower," Mac said quietly.

"I didn't know that," Boston looked up at him and grinned. Mac smiled and pulled her close to him. He gripped the small of her back with one hand and let his other hand tangle in the hair that was snaking out of her hat. Boston ran her free hand down Mac's neck and slipped it underneath his jacket. Both took a moment to relish in the feeling of the other's body.

Mac finally broke the silence, "I'm a dick and I was so far out of line. I'm sorry."

He felt Boston nod against his shoulder. "It's okay."

Gripping her arms, he pulled away so that Boston was looking directly in his eyes. "It's not okay. I was stressed and frustrated about work and I took it out on you...I called the museum today and they told me about the new exhibit," Mac frowned. "I was too caught up in my own world that I didn't even pay attention to what was happening in yours. I am sorry. I know you work hard and I really do wanna hear all about it, even if I don't always give that impression."

Boston nodded again and took a deep breath before talking. "My job is important. I may not be fighting crime, but I educate people and that's important too."

Mac cupped her face. He liked how she looked in the winter, or any other season for that matter, with her hat and scarf. Her cheeks were red from the cold and Mac thought she looked incredibly sexy. "You're absolutely right. I should never have degraded your job. I was a complete ass." He ran his fingers across her cheeks. "You're the most responsible, kindest, funniest, smartest, most beautiful person I know. You're way outta my league."

Boston reached in for another hug and mumbled into his neck, "I forgive you...I love you, even though you can be an ass."

Mac chuckled and pulled away. "I love you, too." Opening the truck door for her, he helped her get inside.

Once they were both inside and the truck's heater was blasting at full force, Mac asked, "How about I take you home and whip us up one of my specialties for dinner?"

Boston laughed and rolled her eyes. "Cheeseburgers again?"

"You know you like them." Boston nodded and leaned in for a kiss.

* * *

"That was good. Thanks, babe," Boston said putting her plate down on the coffee table. Leaning back onto the couch, she put her head in Mac's lap and her feet sprawled over the remaining portion of the couch. Mac smiled and ran his fingers through her hair. "So…Christmas is in a couple of weeks."

"Are you going back to Nebraska?"

"No, I wanna stay here with you."

Mac leaned down and kissed Boston. "Well, I have to work on both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. I do have New Year's Eve off but I'm on call for New Year's Day. I would understand if you wanted to go home for the holidays. I can manage by myself."

Boston played with Mac's finger and simply said, "You are my home. I wanna make our own traditions." After a few minutes, Boston continued, "How about I make Christmas dinner and we can have it whenever you get off work. Then we can open presents and drink eggnog and sing Christmas carols. It'll be perfect." Mac smiled and kissed her forehead. After a couple of minutes, Boston looked up at Mac and asked seriously, "Do you think I'm a Christmas whore?"

Mac let out a laugh and looked around their apartment. The day after Thanksgiving, Mac had come home from work to an apartment that looked like St. Nick had thrown up on it. A huge, fake Christmas tree was standing in one corner of the living room covered with lights and ornaments. Lights were bordering all the windows and doors and little holiday knick knacks were covering all available surfaces. A Christmas wreath was hanging on the outside door and a calendar that counted down the days until the holiday was hung prominently on the wall next to the door. Boston had been sitting in the middle of the living room humming along to the Christmas music that boomed from the radio. She was rummaging through a box and a few pieces of tinsel had gotten caught in her hair. Returning to the present, Mac tenderly brushed her cheek, "Yeah, you're a Christmas whore. But promise me you won't ever change."

"I promise."

* * *

"When is Boston supposed to get here?" Stella asked Mac from across the table. It was the Monday before Christmas and the whole team had gathered at Sullivan's for a drink. It would be the last time that they could all gather like this before the new year. Stella could tell that Mac missed Boston. He wasn't participating in the conversation very much and every time the door opened, Mac's head would jolt up to see if it was Boston.

Mac swirled the liquid in his bottle around, not really paying attention to anything. "Soon. She had a dinner meeting."

Twenty minutes the door opened again. Mac's head bounced up and a grin formed on his mouth. Flack took one look at Mac and said, "From the smile on Mac's face, I'm guessing Boston's here." Mac felt a blush creep into his cheeks as everyone laughed.

Boston smiled brightly and waved at the table before making her way to the bar. Mac took a second to let his eyes wander over Boston's figure. He always thought that she looked especially sexy in her business attire. He watched as Boston squeezed herself into the crowded bar and signal that she wanted a drink. She had to lean over the bar and shout in the bartender's ear in order to be heard over the clatter surrounding her. It was then that Mac noticed the guy standing beside her checking out her ass. Mac felt anger rising up in him and his hand unconsciously tightened over the neck of his beer bottle. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm himself down. He knew that Boston was incredibly beautiful and that it was only natural that other men would check her out, but that didn't stop him from feeling protective over her. He saw the guy lean in closer than was appropriate and whisper in Boston's ear. She jerked away and smiled politely at him before turning her back to him. Glancing over her shoulder at the table, she saw that Mac was watching her. He saw her take a deep breath and smile softly, raising her hand as if to tell him she was okay and to stay where he was. He nodded his head and she turned back towards the bar. Evidently the man standing next her didn't get the hint, because he reached over and grabbed Boston's ass. Mac jumped to his feet, but stopped where he was when Boston looked up at him and shook her head. She could handle this on her own. The team looked up startled at Mac when he had suddenly risen. They all turned in their seats to see what was going on, and saw that the man was standing close to Boston. She was trying to push him away, but his hands were gripping her body. Boston looked over at Mac desperately and that was all he needed. He was halfway across the bar before the other men could rise. Pushing himself through the crowd, he roughly pulled the man away from Boston. "The lady sad no," Mac growled shoving the guy violently towards the door. "And I suggest you leave before I do something I'm not going to regret." The man raised his fist as if he was going to punch him, but stopped when he saw Mac cock his eyebrow and Danny, Flack, Hawkes, and Adam all pushing up their sleeves behind Mac. The man took a second, before he finally turned around and left.

Boston walked up to the men and smiled at them. "Thanks guys." Looking over at Mac, who was still turned away from her staring at the door, she said, "We'll be over in a minute."

"Take your time," Hawkes said as they headed back to the table.

Boston looked at Mac for moment before she lightly placed her hand on his back. Without looking at her, he grabbed her hand and pulled her across the bar. He led her down the hallway that led to the bathrooms. All of a sudden he gently pushed her back against a wall, cupped her face, and kissed her passionately. Shocked at his sudden display of affection, it took Boston a second to respond. Breathing heavily, Mac pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. "Are you okay?" he whispered.

Boston smiled, "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for being my knight in shining armor."

"I'm sorry that I had to come to your rescue."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. In fact," Boston said, wrapping her hands around Mac's neck, "it makes me feel safer knowing that you're always be there to protect me." She closed the distance between them. "C'mon," she said a moment later. "Let's go get my drink and have a good time." Leaning close to his ear, "Then you can take me home and I'll show you just how much I appreciate what you did." Mac nodded his head and let Boston lead him back to the bar.

"So," Stella said thirty minutes later. Lindsey, Stella, Boston, and Angell were huddled at one end of the table chatting while the guys were discussing sports. "Don and I are moving in."

All the girls squeal, gaining the attention of the men. "I didn't realize that you could squeal like that, Jess," Flack said.

Angell took a sip of her drink before responding, "Well, I am still a girl, in case you haven't noticed."

"I've noticed." Adam looked a little shocked that those words had escaped his mouth.

"Anyways," Boston said turning back to Stella. "Where are you going to live?"

"He's moving into my place until we can find one of our own," Stella beamed.

"That's so awesome, Stell. I don't think you're going to regret it," Lindsey said, hugging Stella.

"Linds." Danny came up her and rested his hands on her shoulders. "I told the babysitter we'd be back at ten. We'd better head out."

"Give Craig a hug for me and tell your parents I said hi," Boston told Lindsey as they were leaving. Lindsey, Danny, and Craig were travelling back to Montana the next day for Christmas. "Have a safe trip and call me."

An hour later, Mac was unlocking their apartment door. As soon as they were both in, Boston shoved Mac against the door, kissing him and started to pull at his jacket. "Boston," Mac moaned when she pulled away to tug off his shirt.

Not waiting for him to finish, Boston seared her lips to his once more. She pushed him towards the couch and shoved him down. Straddling him, she pulled her shirt off. "Do you know how fucking hot it was when you shoved that guy?" Boston asked. Mac was breathing heavily and shook his slowly. Boston placed kisses down his chest and started to unbuckle his belt. "Seeing your rough, dangerous, aggressive side," he leaned up so that she could pull of his jeans, "God, Mac, I've never been so turned on."

Mac watched as she shimmied out of her own pants and huskily said, "If I would known this is how'd you reward me...shit," Mac groaned and gripped her shoulder as she licked a particularly sensitive area. "...I would have defended your honor a long time ago."

* * *

It was Christmas evening and Mac had just called telling Boston that he was on his way home. Boston had worked all afternoon making dinner and she was mighty proud herself. She had made a ham, mashed potatoes, stuffing, green beans, and cranberry sauce for Mac. She was just putting the final touches on the candlelit table when Mac walked into their apartment. "Merry Christmas, babe!" Boston greeted him with a kiss.

"Merry Christmas, Bos. You look beautiful," Mac said hanging his coat in the hall closet. Boston was wearing a dark blue, knee length dress with a plunging neck line.

"Well, my mom always made us dress up for Christmas dinner."

"Should I go put on a tie?" Mac smirked.

"No, you look great just as you are."

Mac took a look at the table and then pulled Boston in for another kiss. "Everything looks amazing. You shouldn't have gone to so much trouble."

"It was fun to be all domestic. It made me realize that we really are starting our family here." Mac smiled and pulled Boston's seat out for her. He let his hand run across her back as he walked around the table to take his seat.

After dinner, Boston and Mac gathered around the Christmas tree to open up presents. "Okay," Boston bounced a little as she put two boxes on Mac's lap. "Open the smaller one first."

Mac pulled away the paper revealing a black eyeglass case. He looked at Boston who was smiling before opening the case. Inside was a pair of new sunglasses. A month ago, Mac had broken his pair during a chase after a suspect and since then he had been too busy to go and get a new pair. "Thanks, Bos. These are perfect," he said leaning in for a quick kiss.

"The guy at the glasses place said that we could exchange them if you don't like them."

"No. I love them. You have great taste." Boston grinned and pointed to the other box. Being careful not to tear the wrapping paper, Mac took his time opening the second box. He cocked his eyebrow when he saw a brand new iPod resting in the box. For months now, Boston had been harassing Mac to get his own, but Mac insisted that people had lived without them for thousands of years and if he ever did really need one, he could just borrow hers.

"Now you have your own, so you don't have to take mine when you go for a jog. I already loaded it with your favorites, Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Stevie Wonder, and some of my favorites that I think you'll really like. And it's black, so it'll go with your whole sexy, stoic Detective thing you've got going on."

"This is incredible. I love both the gifts." Mac leaned in for a kiss. "I love you."

Boston smiled, "Love you, too. It's really hard picking out gifts for you."

"Well, you did good." Mac reached under the tree and pulled out two boxes, "Okay, you're turn." He handed her a medium sized present and smiled as he watched her rip off the wrapping paper. She squealed when she saw the DVD inside.

"How'd you know?" she asked holding up the documentary about the Civil War.

Mac laughed, "I think it was the picture of it on the bathroom mirror that did it for me."

Boston smiled and read the back cover of it. "It's 11 hours long." Looking up at Mac, she said, "We're going to have _so_ much fun."

"I can't wait," he playfully grumbled. "This one next." He handed her another box. She lifted the top off a shoe box and grinned at the contents.

Pulling out one soccer cleat and studied it carefully before looking back at Mac, "These are the most beautiful things I've ever seen."

"You should look in the mirror sometime." Boston gave Mac a light shove. "The salesman said they were the best."

"They are. I've seen them in magazines, so I also know that they are ridiculously expensive."

"It's not about the money. I want you to have them." After a minute Mac reached into his suit jacket and pulled out another wrapped present. "There's one more," he said softly.

Boston looked at the small box, then at Mac, and then back at box. He gestured for her to take it and she started to carefully unwrap it. "Mac," she breathed as she opened up the velvet box. "It's gorgeous." She held up the diamond bracelet.

"I saw it and thought of you; beautiful and classic and timeless," he whispered helping her put it on.

She admired it for several minutes before smiling at Mac. "You're pretty amazing. I don't tell you that enough."

Mac blushed and looked back to the tree. "There's still three more presents." He pulled them out and read the cards, "These two are from your family and this one is from my mom."

"Open this one. It's from my brothers to you." Boston slid the biggest one to him.

"I'm slightly afraid," Mac said as he opened it. Mac started laughing as he looked in.

"What? What is it?" Boston strained her neck over Mac's body to see what it was. He slowly pulled a pair of boxing gloves. "That is ingenious!" Boston laughed. "We have to give them a call tomorrow."

The next box that they opened was from Boston's parents. Inside was a large picture frame with three photos, all black and white. They were of Boston and Mac when they had been in Nebraska. The first one was of Mac pushing Boston on the swing. He was leaning down and whispering in her ear. She was gripping the swing tight and was looking up at Mac. They both had soft smiles playing on their faces and love radiated from their faces. The second photo showed Boston's profile. She was looking away from Mac clearly laughing. Mac was gazing at her with a smile and a look of awe in his eyes. The last picture was of the two of them asleep on the couch. They were both on their sides and Boston had her back pressed against Mac's chest and was lying on top of his shoulder. He had one hand slipped over her waist, ensuring she wouldn't fall off, and the other under her head and clasping her hand. His top leg was slipped between her legs and his chin rested on top of her chin.

They both stared at the photos for a while before they looked at each other. "Did you know these were taken," Mac asked. Boston shook her head and glanced at them one more time. "They're beautiful."

Boston smiled and placed the frame on the coffee table. "We look good together." Mac laughed as Boston handed him the last box from his mom. It was small and Mac was trying to figure out what it was before he even finished opening it. His expression was unreadable as he pulled out a baseball that was housed in a small glass case. He looked over at Boston and pulled her into a passionate kiss. "Umm, okay," she mumbled after they pulled apart. "Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for."

"My mom loves you. She hasn't even met you, but she already loves you." He took a few moments to examine the baseball in his hands. "My grandpa got this at the 1918 World Series." Boston gasped and moved in closer to get a better look at the ball. She already understood its importance and Mac loved her for it. The 1918 World Series was the first time that the Chicago Cubs and the Boston Red Sox had played in the series against one another. The Red Sox had won in the sixth game. "He got it on the day that he met my grandmother. He always said that it brought him luck and love and a family. My grandpa gave my dad the ball on the day that he realized that my mom and dad were meant to be. He wanted to bring them their own luck, love, and family."

"Why didn't you get it when you introduced your family to Claire?" Boston asked softly, laying her head on his shoulder.

"My dad told me that we didn't need luck and a woman like Claire would make her own. Plus, Claire _hated_ baseball. She didn't understand it and thought it was barbaric." Mac paused for a moment. Then he pulled Boston so that he could look at her. "You need to understand how amazing this is. My mom wouldn't just give this to anyone; she's not that type of woman. I know you've talked to her on the phone a few times and I tell her a lot about you, but she wouldn't just give this to us because I love you. _She_ must really love you."

Boston nodded her head and reached out for a hug, which Mac gladly accepted. He felt her mumble into his chest, "I love you...And your family...And everything about you...I just...I just love you so much."

Mac smiled into her hair and pulled her closer. "Ditto."

* * *

A/N: I hoped you liked it. Thanks for reading!


	21. Not How It Was Supposed To Be

A/N: Thanks for the reviews. They always make me happy. I'm laughing right now because I know you all are going to hate me in about ten minutes. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Boston.

* * *

"Stop staring at me," Boston said groggily and rearranged the covers.

Mac laughed and gently touched the side of Boston's face. "I can't help it. You're so beautiful; you take my breath away."

Boston smiled and scooted closer to Mac in bed. He glanced over his shoulder at the clock. 12:08. "Happy Anniversary," he whispered in her ear.

A huge grin widened over Boston's face and her eyes popped open. "You remembered."

"Of course I remembered. It was a year ago today that you walked through the door and into my life. I love you."

Boston moved so that she was leaning against Mac's chest. Lightly drawing random symbols on his chest, she looked up at him. "I love you, too, Mac Taylor. Thanks for taking a chance on me."

"Anytime," Mac whispered against her lips.

* * *

Boston was starting to get pissed. Mac was an hour late for their date and hadn't even called. He was the one who had wanted to make a big deal about their anniversary and now he was late and to inconsiderate to even send her a text message informing her what time he'd be home. She was sitting in her dress and heals flipping angrily through a magazine thinking of all the things she was going to say when Mac finally showed up, when there was a knock at the door.

She threw down the magazine and made her way to the door. "Hey Flack," she said opening the door. "Where's Mac?" Flack didn't look at her and Boston saw his jaw tighten. "Where's Mac?" she repeated. He remained silent and Boston felt a heated panic rise in her chest. "Is he okay?" Flack looked up at her and Boston noticed a splash of blood on the side of his collar. Boston started to breathe heavily. She clenched her jaw, "Is. He. Okay?"

Flack lightly touched her arm and spoke uncharacteristically soft, "He's in surgery. I'll take you to the hospital."

The ride to the hospital was silent. Boston stared at out the window but wasn't really aware of everything that was passing her by. She kept replaying fights that they had had over in her head, regretting all the horrible things she had ever yelled at him. Did he know how much she loved him? How much she needed him? How her world revolved around him? Boston was jerked from her thoughts when she heard Flack, "We're here."

They rushed into the emergency room and Boston was instantly taken aback about how many cops were roaming the area. A nurse saw them enter and recognized the badge that resided on Flack's hip. Approaching them, the nurse said rolling her eyes, "Let me guess. You're here for Detective Taylor." Boston nodded her head. "You'll have to wait with everyone else in the waiting room."

"I'm his girlfriend," Boston said simply.

The nurse's face softened and she nodded. "We'll try and have a doctor talk to you shortly."

Boston nodded again and let Flack guide her to the waiting room. The room was packed with detectives, lab techs, and uniforms. Boston took a seat by Lindsey and looked over at her friend. She could see tear stains down her face and her mascara was running a bit. "What happened?" she quietly asked. Lindsey looked at Boston for a second before shaking her head and turning away. "What happened?" she asked louder to anyone that could hear. Nobody answered her. Boston stood up and said loudly, "The man I love is hurt and dying, so somebody better tell what the hell happened to him!" The room was quiet and everyone looked at her with sympathy, but nobody said anything. "Please," Boston pleaded, "I _have_ to know."

Danny walked up to her. "Sit down," he said quietly. He added a "Please," and she obliged. He sat next to her and looked down at his hands. "We were going to question a suspect at a restaurant. The suspect saw us coming, panicked, pulled a gun, and took a bystander hostage. Mac tried to talk him down but things escalated so fast. Mac finally got him to release the hostage, but some unis pulled up with their sirens blaring and the suspect freaked. Mac took three to the chest before I could take him down…I'm sorry, B. I should have reacted faster or done anything to help Mac."

Boston sat and took the story in. It was so like Mac to get hurt while saving someone else. How could she get mad at him for that? What if Danny would have reacted faster? Maybe then she and Mac would be on their date right now. Maybe they'd be in bed making love. Maybe he'd be sitting beside her waiting to hear if Danny would die? She hated herself for thinking these thoughts. She knew that Mac would never blame Danny and would, in fact, be grateful that it was him he had gotten shot rather than the young father. She gently patted Danny's knee and leaned close so that only he could hear. "It's not your fault, Dan. I don't blame you and I know Mac sure as hell doesn't. You were there when he needed you. It looks like you helped stop the bleeding." His shirt was covered in blood and Boston felt her chest tighten at the thought that it was _Mac's_ blood.

Danny shook his head and grabbed Boston's hand, "I'm still sorry."

* * *

Three hours later, Stella and Hawkes came rushing in. Boston looked up at them startled; she hadn't even realized that they weren't here. She watched as Flack hugged as Stella and informed them that there had been no update. She stared at them as Flack tried to comfort the usually strong Stella and she felt a surge of anger rise in her. How could they flaunt their relationship in front of her like that? Boston wrapped her hands around her stomach and gripped her sides trying not to cry. All she wanted was for Mac to be here comforting her; reassuring her that he was alright. Boson wondered if this was the same sort of agony that Mac had gone through when she had been hurt in the bombing. He had never talked about what he had been feeling in those hours before he knew she was okay.

Boston looked up and was startled to see Stella squatting in front of her. "We found these in Mac's jacket. We thought you should have them," Stella said simply. She was holding an envelope with Boston's name written on the outside in Mac's blocky handwriting. In the other hand she was holding a Tiffany's ring box.

Boston's breathing became labored and she felt tears stinging her eyes. Shaking her head and pushing Stella's hands away she said, "No." She couldn't believe this was happening. "This wasn't how it was supposed to be." Stella placed the letter and box in her lap and went back to Flack. Boston grabbed the objects and held them up to her face and let her tears fall. _This wasn't how it was supposed to be._

* * *

Nine hours later, Boston was sitting in Mac's room. The doctor had come into the waiting room and told the group Mac had just gotten out of surgery. The doctor had spoken in medical terms and Boston had been so overwhelmed by everything that she didn't gather much. Apparently, one of the bullets had clipped a major artery leading to massive internal bleeding; another had collapsed one of his lungs, and the last had gone into his shoulder tearing the muscle. The doctor had said something about being in a lot of trauma and of there being a forty percent chance that he would survive. Boston had been afraid to touch him. He was hooked up to so many machines. They were breathing for him and keeping track of his heart rate and pumping him full of morphine; Boston didn't want to accidently pull something out and wind up hurting him. So, she was delicately holding his hand and was trying to stay hopeful.

She finally grabbed the small box out of her pocket and fiddled with it for several minutes. Taking a deep breath, she opened it and instantly wished she hadn't. Inside was the most beautiful ring she had ever seen. There was a square cut diamond in the middle, surround by smaller diamonds. The band was white gold and had diamonds running halfway done it. Boston wiped her eyes and carefully pulled the ring out of the box and slowly slid it on her finger. It took all her inner strength not to cry as she carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the letter. Slowly, she unfolded the letter and began to read,

_Boston – _

_I want this moment to be absolutely perfect for you and I don't trust my words to do that. There isn't much in this world that can rattle me, but it seems that whenever you're around, I become a bumbling idiot. I take one look at you and all intelligent thought escapes me. All I can think about is how your eyes twinkle when you laugh or how cute you look when you're concentrating and your forehead crinkles._

_I thought that I would never find someone I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, again. And then you came gliding into Sullivan's and gave me that beautiful smile. I knew from the moment I saw you that my life was going to change. At first I was hesitant to this change. I thought my life was safe the way it was. But you were persistent and worked your way into my life. And then, before I know what was happening, you had turned my world upside down, and I loved every minute of it. I don't want to go back to my old life, Boston. You showed me that I could love again, and I thank you for that._

_Every morning when I wake up, I'm always a little surprised that you're still by my side. So, I'm standing here tonight, watching you read this letter, and hoping with all my heart that you'll make me the happiest man in the world. I am so in love with you, Boston Madison Waters, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want everyone to know that you belong to me and I to you. I want to have the family we've talked about. But most of all I just want you. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?_

_Love,_

_--Mac_

Boston leaned forward and, being watchful of the wires, lightly brushed her lips against Mac's. "Yes."

* * *

A/N: I'm waiting for the death threats. Thanks for reading!


	22. Strength

* * *

A/N: As always, thanks for the reviews. I'm very impressed with your power of restraint and the fact that I only got a couple of threats (and promises). I really hope you guys like this chapter. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Boston.

* * *

"Boston," Lindsey said gently putting her hand on Boston's shoulder. "You need to get some rest and eat something." It had been three days and Mac still hadn't woken up. They had rushed him back to surgery twice to fix his lung and deal with more internal bleeding. When Boston didn't respond, Lindsey continued, "Boston. He wouldn't want to see you like this."

"How would you know what he wants?" Boston snapped and turned in her seat to face Lindsey. "You don't know anything about him." Turning back to face Mac, a few tears ran down her cheeks. Lindsey stayed where she was and a few minutes later, Boston continued, "What am I gonna do, Linds? How am I going to survive without him?"

"He's not gone yet. You have to keep believing in him. I may not know him like you do, but I do know that he is strong. And he is helplessly in love with you. He's held on this long; he'll pull through. For you."

* * *

It was four days after the shooting and Boston was still at her post next to Mac. She was reading a book about the history of Chicago that Mac had bought her as a joke. When he had first told her that he had grown up in Chicago, she had admitted that she knew nothing about the city. The next day, Mac had hand delivered the book to her apartment. "I got this one for me," Mac had said holding up another book about Nebraska.

Boston was pulled from her thoughts when she heard a choking sound. She turned towards Mac and saw that his eyes were wide and he was struggling to breathe with the tube down his throat. "Mac. Calm down, babe," she tried to sooth him. Jumping up, she quickly pushed the nurse call button. "Relax, okay. A doctor's coming," she said gently touching the side of his side of his face. A doctor and several nurses ran in. Seeing that Mac was awake, they quickly took over.

A nurse grabbed her arms and pushed Boston towards the door. "You're going to have to stay outside. We need to run some tests."

Four hours later the doctor walked into the waiting room. "Miss Waters?" she asked standing in front of Boston. "Detective Taylor doesn't seem to have any trouble breathing, but we'll still need to pay close attention to his lung to make sure it doesn't re-collapse. His shoulder is our main concern now. He'll need to stay in the hospital at least a week longer for observation and then he'll need physical therapy for several months. He'll be out of work for roughly three months until he gets full range of motion back in his arm. He's awake and asking for you."

* * *

"Hi," Mac said as soon as Boston entered the room.

Boston swallowed the lump in her throat. She had to be strong for him, so she put on smile and walked towards him. "Hey, Mackie." She reached his side and took his hand in hers.

Mac felt the shock of cold metal on his hand. Looking down at their entwined fingers, he saw a ring on Boston's finger. Looking back up at Boston he hesitantly asked, "You read my letter?" She smiled softly and nodded. "Will you...uh," Mac paused. "Will you marry me?"

Boston smiled brightly, "Yes." Mac's face broke out into a grin and Boston leaned down. Before their lips touched she said, "I can't wait to be Boston Taylor." Boston pulled away quickly, not wanting Mac to overdo it. Pulling up her chair, she sat down next to Mac's bed.

"Do you mean it?" Mac asked.

"Mean what?"

"Changing your name; becoming a Taylor."

"Of course. My blood will always be Waters, but I want everyone to know I'm a Taylor."

Mac smiled and slowly lifted his hand to touch Boston's cheek. "If you don't like the ring, we can take it back."

"No! I absolutely love it. It's gorgeous," Boston said looking down at it.

"I'm sorry I didn't get to ask you properly. I had it all planned out, but then..."

"I'm just glad you're okay." Boston looked away from him and quickly wiped away her tears.

"Hey." He waited until Boston looked at him. "I'm still here. That's all the matters." Boston nodded her head and kissed his hand.

They talked for a few more minutes before Mac started to fall asleep. He had been hesitant to go back to sleep, but Boston had promised him that she'd be here when he awoke. She had made sure he was asleep before she snuck out of his room and made her way down to the entrance. Stepping outside, Boston took a deep breath of fresh air and dug in her pocket for her phone.

"Hey, Mom. It's Boston."

"_How's Mac?"_ Boston had called her parents sometime on day two and then just a few hours ago after he had woken up. She had only told them of the shooting and had failed to mention that Mac had kind of proposed. Boston had wanted to hear Mac ask the question from his own lips before she started telling people.

"He's good. The Doc said he'd be out of work for a few months until his shoulder heals. He should be outta the hospital in a week or so."

"_That's great, honey. Send him our love."_

"He proposed. We're getting married."

"_I know. I'm so glad you said yes."_

"Yeah – wait. You knew."

"_He came and saw us."_

"What? How?" This didn't make sense. He had gone and seen them?

"_It was last month, right after the new year."_

"Wait. He said he was going to Pittsburg for some seminar he had to present at."

"_Well, that's what he told you. He came down here for the weekend. He asked your father and I if it would be okay to ask you to marry him. He said he didn't want to undermine the relationship that we have with you and that having our approval was important to him. Then I helped him pick out your ring. Do you like it?"_

"I love it. It's everything I dreamed of as a little girl."

"_I thought it was perfect for you. It was actually Mac's top choice as well."_

Boston sighed, "I really like him, Mom."

"_He is a great man, B. He obviously cares a lot about you. We couldn't have asked for a better man to be our new son. You've grown up a lot in this last year."_

"Thanks, Mom. I better get back to him. I told him I'd be there when he woke up." Boston said her goodbyes and took one last breath of fresh air. Then she turned back towards the hospital to resume her place by Mac's side.

* * *

Two weeks later, Boston led Mac into their apartment for the first time since the shooting. Mac had gotten an infection in his shoulder, prolonging his stay. His shoulder was in a brace so that he wouldn't damage it when he moved or slept. He had already started his physical therapy but wouldn't let Boston come with him. He demanded that she stay behind while he worked out and wouldn't talk about it when he returned. The doctor had given Mac some pills for the pain and told him to rest. He had been given morphine while he was in the hospital, but he always seemed so hesitant about taking the pain reliever. Boston was worried that he wouldn't want to take the pills and he would wind up hurting himself more.

Boston helped Mac get in bed and then felt unsure of what to do. "Okay. Do you want anything? Are you hungry? Thirsty? Are you comfortable? Do you want more pillows? I bet you're cold. I'll go get you some more blankets. Do you want a book? Or do you wanna watch TV? I can go rent some –"

"Boston," Mac interrupted her tirade. "Can you just lay down with me for a minute?" Boston gave a small smile and carefully climbed into bed beside him. She laid on her side close, but not touching him, which Mac immediately noticed. "I'm not made of glass. You can touch me. I won't break." Mac could see the wheels turning in her head and knew she was probably trying to remember every word that the doctor had said. Finally, she scooted closer to him and gently put her head on his good shoulder and her hand on his chest. He wrapped his good arm around her and listened to her breathing become even. He couldn't tell her how much he appreciated her support. He'd been cranky and gotten bored easily, but Boston had been there smiling, cracking jokes, and providing conversation. He knew he'd only get worse in the coming weeks, but he trusted that Boston was strong enough to stand behind him.

A little while later, Mac's shoulder was starting to ache so he repositioned his body. Boston jolted up, "Are you okay?"

It took Mac a second to realize why she was so jumpy. "Yeah, I was just shifting my legs. I'm fine," he lied. Boston took a second to read his face and then nodded slowly. "I'm kinda hungry. Will you go down to the deli I like and get me the usual?"

"Of course. Will you be okay?"

"I'll be fine," Mac snapped. Boston got a hurt look on her face, but didn't say anything. Mac hated himself for lying to her, but he needed her to leave. His shoulder was killing him, but he didn't want to take any of the pills. He was stronger than that. He was a Marine and a cop and he could manage without becoming addicted to some pain killers. He had soon too many good men become controlled by them, and he sure as hell wasn't going to become another statistic. He was stronger than that.

* * *

"Okay, so I got your sandwich and some chips and then I stopped at the corner store and got some vegetables because I felt bad for getting you chips and I figured – " Boston stopped midsentence as she walked into the bedroom and saw Mac. He was lying on his side, gripping his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Never been better," Mac gritted through his teeth. Boston reached for the pill bottled but he smacked the bottle from her hand, sending it crashing to the floor. "I don't need any goddamn pills."

Boston stared at him wide eyed and Mac hated the look running on her face. "Why won't you take them?" he heard her ask softly a minute later.

"Because I don't need them." He was lying. He knew it and she knew it.

"If you're worried about becoming dependent on them, I'll keep track. I won't let you become an addict." He hated her for knowing that. He hated her for thinking that she knew him. But mostly, he hated her _for_ knowing him. It'd be so much easier if she wasn't around. He didn't need anyone to coddle him and he could sure as hell take care of himself. If he didn't want to take any pills, then he wasn't going to take any. "I think they'd really help with the pain.

"I didn't realize that you were suddenly a _real_ doctor," Mac snarled at her.

She nodded her head slowly and placed a sandwich, bag of chips, a vegetable tray, and a bottle of water on the bed beside him. "If you need anything, I'll be in the living room." Giving him a weak smile she said, "I love you," and walked out.

Forty-five minutes later Boston heard Mac call her name. She rushed back into the bedroom and saw him curled up on the middle of the bed. He looked at her and said, "It hurts so much." Boston didn't know what to do. She didn't know if he wanted to be touched or not, but she laid down beside him and wrapped her arms around him, being careful of his shoulder. She was shocked when she felt hot tears sinking into her sweater. This was the first time she had ever seen Mac cry and it was a little unsettling. After several minutes, Boston felt Mac reach up and dry his eyes. Then he mumbled into her neck, "Promise that you'll keep track of them."

"I promise."

"Don't let me have more than I need. Even if I beg or yell at you. Don't give me more."

"I promise."

"Hide them. Keep them away from me."

"I promise."

"Okay." Mac took a deep breath, "Okay. I'll take one."

Boston nodded and kissed Mac' head. Pulling away, she found the bottle under the side table and grabbed the water bottle off the floor. It looked like Mac had thrown his food against the wall in a fit of rage, but Boston didn't comment on it. "Okay, for now we'll start you with one every six hours. When you start to heal, we'll tone it back to one every twelve hours and then one a day, and then you should be fine. The Doc said that these should last you a month."

Mac nodded and chocked down the pill that Boston had given him. Taking a deep breath, he rearranged himself so that he was leaning against the headboard. Mac stole a second to look at Boston as she picked up the food he had childishly thrown across the room. He could see the stress etched on her face. "I'm sorry," he said softly. Boston turned from where she was squatted and looked at him. "I'm sorry I took my frustration out on you." Boston nodded and turned back around. Mac knew she was still hurt and he hated when she was quiet like this. He was so used to her talking nonstop that it always unnerved him when she was silent. "Boston, will you look at me." He saw her shoulder's slump and then she turned around and faced him. "I really am sorry. I can't promise that it won't happen again, but I need you to know that it's never about you."

Boston stood up and gave him a small smile, "I know. And I understand. Now, are you hungry?" Mac nodded. "Want me to go and get you a new sandwich?"

Mac felt a blush settle into his cheeks. "If it's not too much trouble."

"No trouble at all."

* * *

Boston was relieved that Mac's physical therapy always ran late on Thursdays, allowing her some alone time. She laughed resentfully. _Alone. That assumes that when Mac is here, that he is actually with me_. In the month since the shooting, Mac had gone from bad to worse. He was distant and snarky and managed to pick fights about everything. This morning the coffeemaker had broken, and somehow it was her fault. Who cares if Mac had had that thing for seven years? Boston put down the new coffeemaker that she purchased during her lunch hour. She knew that he was injured and probably felt caged in, but she was seriously getting tired of being his scapegoat. Making matters even worse, Boston had no one to talk to. She didn't want to say anything to Stella or Lindsey about Mac's attitude because she wasn't sure how he would react. He was their boss after all, and she would respect the fact that he might want to keep some things private. She didn't want her family to hate Mac, so she kept her mouth shut with them. They might start to get the wrong impression about him, and if she and Mac were still going to get married, which Boston was unsure of, then she wanted her family not to have any more grudges against him. She had tried mentioning it to a few colleagues at work, but they had just shrugged it off saying that Mac had just been shot. So she had picked up a new pastime of crying. It was either she cried or she did something that she might regret later...like kill Mac and hide his body in his old coffeemaker.

* * *

Mac entered the apartment, expecting to see Boston sitting on the couch waiting for him. She liked to greet him after his physical therapy and see how it'd gone. This time, instead, he was met by an empty room. Frowning, he walked back to the kitchen and then the office. Still nothing. As he approached their bedroom, he heard the faint sound of water running. He quietly walked into the bathroom and felt his heart break when he saw her. She was standing in the corner of the shower with her back to Mac. He could tell that she was crying by the way her shoulders were shaking. This wasn't the first time Mac had caught her crying. Whenever she thought he wasn't around, she would cover her face with her hands and sob. He wished she would open up to him about it, but he couldn't really blame her for not doing so. He had been on edge every since he had been released from the hospital. He would pick a fight with her about anything and everything, even things that were beyond her control. This morning he had particularly ripped her head off because the coffeemaker had stopped working. He didn't know why he was taking his frustration and pain out on her, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. Once she had gone back to work, he expected her to work long hours just to get away from him, but she did the exact opposite. She would work through her lunch hour most days so that she could leave an hour early. She'd bring stacks of paperwork home to do, but only touched it after Mac had fallen asleep from exhaustion. She rarely smiled or laughed anymore and though she tried to make small talk with Mac, he could tell her heart wasn't in it. He knew he was slowly killing her spirit and he hated himself for it, but he couldn't stop the rush of annoyance that developed whenever she was around. He knew he was losing her and she hadn't said "I love you," on her way out this morning. But, then again, Mac hadn't said it in weeks. It wasn't that he didn't love her; in fact the opposite was true. His love for her had only grown since the shooting. He saw the full depth of her strength and commitment, and that scared him. What if next time he didn't survive? In his line of work, he couldn't guarantee that they would grow old together or even that he'd return home after a shift. What if she realized this? What if she didn't want to lead a life of uncertainty?

Slowly, Mac toed off his shoes and pushed off his jeans and boxers. He carefully removed his shirt and opened the shower door, stepped in, and closed it behind him. The rush of water covered up any sound he had made and Boston remained oblivious of his presence. He let his eyes wander over her back and down her legs. She looked beautiful with the water flowing down her body and Mac gently touched her back. She turned around in shock and calmed down when she realized it was Mac. He smiled softly when she tried to cover herself up. "I've already seen it all," he joked. Boston just stared at him, blinking away the water drops falling from her eyelids. Mac smiled again as he remembered their first kiss and how beautiful and sexy she had looked standing in the rain. "Why were you crying?" he asked a moment later.

For a second, he thought Boston wasn't going to talk to him, but then she did. "I got a new coffeemaker. I hope it meets your specifications," she said with a trace of bitterness laced through her voice.

"Why were you crying?" he repeated ignoring the hated that he was feeling towards himself.

"Because if I don't cry, I might punch in the face," she sighed and looked away from Mac. "I know you're hurt, Mac. I know you're in pain, and that you're frustrated and bored and you're feeling useless. But, I can't take this anymore." Mac's chest tightened. So, he had been right. She didn't want to be with a cop; she couldn't deal with the insecurity. "You have to stop yelling at me. I don't know if you're trying to push me away or you genuinely are this pissed at me, but it's gotta stop. I don't deserve this. I've tried to be strong and to be there for you, but you don't seem to care. So, tell me what I'm doing wrong so that I can fix it." Her tears mixed with the water coming down from the shower.

Mac took a step forward. "You're not doing anything wrong." Mac hesitated at telling the truth. Then he realized that talking with Boston was the only that ever truly made him feel better. She had a way of comforting him and instead of pushing her away, he should accept that comfort. "I'm scared," he chocked.

She lifted her eyes to meet his and briefly touched his hand with her fingers. "Of what?"

"Of leaving you. I don't want to die, Bos...But I can't promise that I won't get hurt in the line again. I may not be able to give you a family or a wedding or even tomorrow. I just can't offer you security like that. And I hate myself for it," Mac's jaw tightened and his breathing became labored as he tried to keep his emotions in check.

"Mac," Boston breathed his name. She stepped forward and placed her hand on his chest. "Security's overrated. Instead of worrying about what might happen, we should make each moment that we do have together last. I'm not going to lie and say that your job doesn't scare me, because it does. I worry every day that something is going to happen to you. And then..."

Mac was silent for a moment. He wanted her to continue; to share her feelings with him about that day. "You can talk to me...about anything."

"Why don't you talk to me about your physical therapy?"

Mac gave a light smile at the way she had twisted his words around on him. If he expected her to be honest with him, he had to show her the same respect. "I want you to think I'm strong."

"I do. Showing weakness doesn't_ make_ you weak. When you share things with me, it only cements your strength in my eyes."

"Why don't you talk to me about what you felt that day or are feeling now?"

Boston laughed, "I want you to think I'm strong."

Mac let his hand reach up and the side of her face. "You're the strongest person I know. You've stuck by me despite my moods and you haven't once complained." Mac paused for a moment and then continued, "Have you talked to anyone?" Boston looked away from Mac and stayed silent. "Lindsey told me you haven't been talking to her about all this."

Mac watched her lick her lips and felt something inside of him stir. "I...Linds and Stell are your employees. I didn't want to cross a line."

"Have you been talking to your family?"

Boston shook her head. "I don't want them to hate you."

"So, you haven't talked to anyone about what you've been dealing with?" When Boston nodded her head, Mac closed the space between them and wrapped his arms, as best he could, around her. He felt her body shake against his and knew she was crying again. He let himself relax in the feeling of Boston's body pressed against his as the water cascaded over both their bodies. "I'm sorry, Boston." When she finally calmed down, Mac pulled away just far enough so that he could rest his forehead on her's. Looking deep in her eyes, he said, "You can always talk to Stella of Lindsey. They're professional enough to keep their personal feelings out of the Lab. And I don't ever want to come between you and your family. I've been beaten up by your brothers once, I can handle it again. I love you. I'm sorry I haven't told you that recently."

"I love you, too," Boston whispered softly.

Mac brought his good hand up and touched Boston's face, letting it trace her cheek and cup the back of her neck. "I love you," he whispered again before closing the space between them. He felt Boston sigh into the kiss and grip his hips. After a while, Mac slipped his hand down her shoulders and to her breasts. Boston moaned and slowly Mac slid his hand further down her body and cupped her ass.

"Mac," she warned. He ignored her and moved his lips over her's once more. After a moment, he slipped his hand to her legs. Pulling away again, she pushed his hand away. "Mac, we can't. You're still injured."

"The doctor said I can't have sex. He never said I couldn't...pleasure you." He cut off her protests with his mouth. He waited for a sign that he should continue. Finally she ran her hand up his side and gripped his good shoulder and moaned into the kiss. Mac took that as his cue and let his hand touch her legs again.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading!


	23. Domestic Mac

A/N: As always, thanks for the reviews. Please read the author's note on the bottom – I really need your help. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Boston.

* * *

"Honey, I'm home!" Mac laughed as he heard Boston call cheerfully from the entryway.

He waited for her to enter the living room before he responded, "Hey, Bos. How was work?"

Dropping her bag and coat near the wall, she kicked off her heals and flopped down on the coach beside Mac. Leaning her head on his shoulder, she said, "It was okay. We had a meeting about sexual harassment in the work place."

"Did you learn anything?"

"Not to let people touch me in my special place." Mac laughed and put his good arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "How was your day?"

"Productive." He continued when she looked at him confused, "I organized the pantry, did three loads of laundry, hung up those pictures of us in the hallway, went to the bookstore, ran a couple of other errands, went to physical therapy, and started dinner."

Boston raised her eyebrow and pulled away slightly. "I really don't think you should be doing all that."

Mac sighed, "I only have a month and a half left until I can go back to work and my shoulders been feeling really good. My physical therapist said I might be able to get the brace off in a couple of weeks." Boston looked at him disapprovingly and Mac sighed again. "C'mon, Boston. Don't be like this."

"Be like what," Boston snapped.

"All overprotective. I'm fine. I feel fine. Everything will be fine." Mac stood up and walked to the kitchen to check on dinner.

"Everything won't be fine if you overextend yourself and end up damaging your shoulder again," he heard Boston say.

Now Mac was pissed. Slamming the stove shut he stormed back out to the living room, "Damnit Boston. What do you want me to do? Sit at home all day doing nothing? Lie in bed and pine for you, counting the minutes until you come home?"

Boston took a deep breath and tried to control her emotions. "That's not what I'm saying. You can go do things. Just try not to do _so many_ things. I don't want you to reverse all the progress you've made." Standing up, she walked over to where Mac was sulking. She gently wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head back on his shoulder. "I don't wanna fight with you."

After a minute, Mac wrapped his arm around her and placed a kiss on her head. She softly heard him say, "I don't wanna fight either. I just get so bored."

"You could always read."

"I've already read everything I own and most of your stuff. Yesterday I was so desperate that I started reading one of your museum textbooks."

Boston looked up at him and smiled. "Wow! You _must_ have been bored. At least you haven't started reading my trashy romances." A blush settled into Mac's cheeks and Boston's mouth dropped. "No!" Boston burst out laughing and Mac pulled away, heading back to the kitchen. She caught his hand, stopping him trying to control herself. "I'm sorry, Mac," she said in between giggles. "I'm just trying to picture tough, manly, Detective Taylor reading a romance novel." Mac rolled his eyes and tried to pull away. Finally, she stopped laughing. "I'm sorry, babe." Mac looked at her skeptically. "Really. I can't even imagine how much it must suck to be stuck here all day with no one to talk to." He nodded and she reached up and kissed him on the lips. "Did you get anything good at the bookstore?" Boston asked when they pulled apart. "Any new Danielle Steel books?"

Mac sighed and went to grab a bag that was propped up against the couch. "I'm never going to live this down, am I?" He finally smiled when he saw Boston shake her head. He patted the seat next to him and she joined him back on the couch. "I got me some science books and a couple of mystery novels." It always made Boston laugh knowing that Mac loved mystery novels. She would have thought that after solving crimes all day, the last thing that the man would want to do was come home and kick back with a mystery novel. But sure enough, Mac had a hefty stash of the books and usually finished one every two or three days. "I got you this," he said pulling out a book.

Boston took one look at the book and jerked it from his hands. "The new Nicholas Sparks!" she gasped. "This _just_ came out. How'd you know?" she asked, flipping open the front flap and started reading the summary.

"You mentioned it. Plus, you have all his other books."

Boston smiled and leaned up, giving Mac a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, babe."

Mac started pulling more stuff out of his bag. Finally he stopped and looked at Boston. "I know this has been hard on you. I've been pushing you away and haven't been showing you how much you mean to me. You might even be questioning my feelings for you. But…" Mac paused, rubbing his forehead. "Just, don't give up on me. I love you and I still wannna marry you. God," Mac smiled, "I've never wanted anything more." He put something on her lap. Boston looked down and laughed when she saw at least ten wedding magazines on her lap. "I want this to happen. I want you to have the wedding of your dreams."

Boston started flipping through the top magazine. "Aren't you afraid I'll turn into a Bridezilla."

"Somehow, with you, I don't think that's gonna be a problem." Mac let her browse through the magazine for a few more minutes before he started talking. "I did something else I think you're gonna like."

"Oh, yeah?" Boston looked up and raised her eyebrow.

"Yeah," Mac said. He picked up his laptop from the coffee table and pulled up a screen. "I know that it's important for you that we redecorate the apartment, but I've been dragging my feet." Boston nodded and moved the magazines off her lap so that she could get a better look at Mac's computer. "So, I went to a few places today and picked out a few pieces that I like."

An hour later, they had finally agreed on all new furniture. All the furniture was dark cherry wood with simple lines. Mac liked the sharp, clean angles of the pieces and Boston liked the how sophisticated the pieces looked in the dark cherry finish. After much pleading from Boston, Mac also agreed to help look for some decorations to put in their bedroom. Together they picked out several picture frames, candles, and throw pillows that would go great in their new room.

"See, now that wasn't so hard, was it?" Boston asked playfully, kissing Mac.

* * *

"Hey, Bos," Mac came walking hesitantly into their bedroom later that night.

"Yeah?" Boston said, not looking up from the papers that were spread out in front of her.

"What's this?" Boston looked up to see Mac holding a folder. She instantly knew what it was and scrunched her forehead up in irritation. Mac saw this and knew that she was annoyed. "I wasn't going through your stuff. It fell off the desk," he said walking out.

Boston sighed. "Mac!" He didn't respond so Boston made her way to the office. "Mac," she said softer. "It's okay, ya know, if you _were_ going through my stuff. I have nothing to hide from you." He remained where he was but she saw his shoulders relax. Boston walked up to him and lightly touched the back of his neck. "I got invited to give a speech at the University of Chicago about the role of Illinois in the Civil War."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I first heard about it a month ago. We weren't really talking then and everything was so uncertain."

Mac nodded, but didn't turn around. "When is it?"

"A month."

He slowly turned around in his chair and pulled her onto his lap. Quietly he asked, "Can I come?"

Boston smiled and touched his cheek, "I would love for you to come, but," Mac's shoulders fell. "What about your physical therapy?"

"They can give me some exercises that I can do on the road."

Boston thought about it for a second, and then smiled. "We can visit your family."

"Definitely," Mac grinned.

* * *

A/N: I'm starting to feel like this story is faltering a little, so I want your input. PLEASE let me know what you think. Is it too fluffy? Do you like the way it's written? Would you rather there be less dialogue and more detail? Do you want it to move faster or slower? Do you want more sex or less sex (in the story of course – I can't do anything about real life)? Please tell me anything you think – good and bad. Thanks for reading!


	24. You're Still The One

A/N: Thanks so much for all the input (especially **iheartcsinewyork**). All the comments made me realize I was just being stupid. You all are amazing! Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Boston.

* * *

"Hey, Dan. Sorry, I'm late," Mac said as soon as Danny answered the door.

"No problem. How's it going?" Mac nodded and followed Danny into the kitchen.

"Can't complain." He grabbed the water and beer bottles that Danny was holding out to him. "Thanks. Where's Boston?" Mac looked around the kitchen, as if she might be hiding.

"In the living room with Linds and Craig." Sure enough, Boston could be heard talking to Craig in a baby voice

"Who's a big boy? Who's Boston's boy? Can you say Boston?"

"Can you stop talking to my son like he's an idiot?" Danny called from the kitchen.

Boston didn't bother to look up from Craig. "Oh, I'm sorry Craig," she said in her most scholarly voice. "Why don't we discuss Marxist historiography and its effects on post-structuralist academia. What are your thoughts on that Craigge?"

"Do you know what she's talking about?" Danny asked Mac as the two men entered the living room. Danny took a seat next to Lindsey and Mac took an empty chair. Boston was lying on the floor next to the baby.

"I like to think that I'm a smart guy, but whenever she starts in on history theory, I immediately feel inferior." Mac opened Boston's beer for her, setting it on the side table before he opened his own water.

Boston laughed and tickled Craig's stomach as he grabbed her nose. There was a mutual silence for a few minutes as Lindsey and Danny admired their son. Mac, on the other hand, was admiring Boston. She seemed like such a natural as she looked over the youngster. Her eyes were beaming and she seemed to be glowing. She looked up at Mac and the two shared a smile before Craig started to cry.

Lindsey sighed and picked up her son. "Feeding time." Turning back to Boston and Mac, she said, "We'll be back in a minute."

Boston nodded her head and watched as Danny followed his family out of the room. Gently pushing herself up from the floor she walked over to Mac. "Hey, babe. Thanks," she said holding up her opened beer.

He nodded and grabbing her hand, pulling her onto his lap. He smiled at her as his lips met hers. "Hey," he said, licking his lips a little.

"How was the doctor's visit? Sorry, I couldn't be there."

"He said I was fine to start..."

"Start what? Are you going back to work? I thought you still had two weeks left. I'm not sure if that's a good – "

Mac stopped her rambling by pulling her in for another kiss. "I'm not going back to work yet. He said we could start...making love again."

Boston smiled at his choice of words. She playfully poked him in the stomach. "Do you still remember how?"

Mac leaned up and licked her ear. "I think I still remember how to make you scream."

Boston took another swig of her beer and moved off Mac's lap. "Okay, then." Mac gave himself a mental high five for making her flustered. It wasn't often that he talked dirty and it was even less often that he did it in a place where he could be overheard by two of his own employees.

"Okay. Danny's gonna finish getting Craig ready for bed," Lindsey said as she sat down next to Boston. "When's your mom coming in tomorrow?"

Boston had invited her mom to come to New York to help her shop for a wedding dress. There was no one that Boston trusted more than her mom to give her an honest opinion. Plus Boston had a feeling that her mom was feeling a little out of the loop. Mac and Boston had decided to get married in New York and that meant her mom couldn't easily help with the planning. She did e-mail Boston at least fifteen times a day with links to different bridal websites or pictures of flowers that might be appropriate. Boston really did appreciate all her mom's help, because she was still working and finding it hard to juggle planning the wedding, working, and maintaining her relationship with Mac.

"Her flight gets in at 6:30 in the morning. We're gonna pick her up, have breakfast, and then me and her will meet you and Stell at the first bridal shop on that list I gave you."

"Sounds like a plan." Lindsey said as Danny came back into the living room and sat down. He and Lindsey exchanged a glance and Danny nodded at her. "We have ulterior motives for asking you guys over here."

"You mean you didn't invite us here to listen to Boston talk like a baby?" Mac deadpanned.

Lindsey laughed nervously and grabbed Boston's hand. "We are...really happy that you two are engaged. You two are meant to be together and you're going to have a great life together." Taking a deep breath, Lindsey continued. "We were hoping that you'd both agree...to be Craig's godparents. If something were to happen to us, there's no one we'd trust more with our baby than you two."

"I figured you'd want Flack as the godfather," Mac said looking at Danny.

Choosing his words carefully, Danny looked Mac straight in his eyes. "Flack is like a brother to me. I want him to be in Craig's life, but I trust you to raise him. Teach him about justice and loyalty and integrity. You're the only one who could care for him as much as I do." Mac nodded his head. He stood up, walked over to Danny and pulled him into a manly hug. Lindsey and Boston watched in silence.

* * *

"That was fun. I can't believe they asked us to be Craig's godparents," Boston said as she walked out of Danny and Lindsey's apartment building and onto the cold street. The brisk March air tousled Boston's hair and she pulled her jacket a little tighter around her frame. She reached her arm up to hail a cab, but Mac quickly grabbed it.

"Let's walk."

"Mac, it's freezing." Mac shrugged off his leather jacket and tossed it over Boston's shoulders. "No, you'll get sick," she objected.

"I just wanna walk with you. Please," he sent her his best puppy eyes. Finally she smiled and let him tug her towards their apartment.

They walked in silence with Mac's hand on the small of Boston's back. When they got to their block, he guided her farther up, into Central Park. She started to protest, but stopped. She knew that Mac had something up his sleeve, so it was best to trust him. Finally they stopped in the middle of a field. It was obviously covered in fake snow and Boston didn't see anything particularly special about it. Suddenly, a machine started up and was blowing snow over them. Boston looked up and grinned, whirling around, trying to catch the snow. She looked back to where Mac had been standing and stopped in her tracks. He was down on one knee and holding a box. She gulped and felt tears prickling her eyes.

"You deserve a proper proposal," Mac said quietly, his voice cracking with emotion. "I remember the first time I realized that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. We'd been dating for a couple of months and I came home from a particularly hard case. You were lying in my bed, reading a magazine, wearing a pair of my sweats. And then you looked up at me and smiled and called me 'babe'. And all the harshness of the day washed away in an instant. No matter how bad life is going, you're always there to lift me up. And when life is good, you're the first person I want to share it with." Mac took a second to clear his throat. "There aren't words to describe how much you mean to me. I love you more than you could ever possibly know. The day that you become Boston Madison Taylor will be one of the happiest days in my life." He slowly opened the box to reveal a silver necklace with two interlocking circles dangling from the chain.

"Mac. I love you so much…" she said looking into his eyes. "It's beautiful, but you didn't need–"

Mac cut off her objection. "I wanted you to have it. I want you have the world."

Boston gave him a teary eyed smile, "The world can wait; I just want you."

Standing up, Mac cupped her face and wiped her cheeks dry with his thumbs. He slowly leaned down and kissed her deeply. When they pulled apart, Mac said, "Now we've kissed in the rain and the snow."

Boston grinned and reached up for another. "Take me home."

* * *

"Now that Mac's gone, tell me all about me wedding," Nora, Boston's mom, asked as soon as Mac had stepped out of the truck the next morning. Boston had stopped Nora from talking about the wedding in too much detail around Mac. He was a good sport with all the planning and generally went to look at locations and food tastings without too much complaining. But, he was still a man and could only take so much talk about colors and flowers.

"We chose August 16th and – "

"Why so late? Why not sooner?" Nora interjected.

"Because I need time to plan a wedding. And since we're getting married here the – "

"You're getting married here? In New York? Not in Nebraska?"

"We decided that this wedding is about us and since we live here it just makes sense. So – "

"Did Mac pressure you to get married here?"

"No! He couldn't care less where you get married. He would get married in Antarctica if he thought that's what I wanted. Anyway, we're getting married at this little beach resort – "

"The beach? Are you joking?"

"Yes. Yes, I am."

"Really?"

"No! Why would I joke about this? So, the actual ceremony will be on the beach – "

"The ceremony isn't going to be in a church?"

Boston took a deep breath and tightened her grip on the steering wheel. "Mom, I love you, but this is my and Mac's wedding. If we want to get married on a beach, then you need to support us."

Nora sighed. "Fair enough. I'll stop interrupting you."

"Okay, so the ceremony will be on the Manhattan Beach at sunset, but the reception will be inside this great burger joint that we like to go to on the weekends. It's right on the edge of the beach, so everyone can just walk over when the ceremony is over. It's obviously going to be pretty low key. The burger place will cater. So, they'll be burgers, fries, chicken strips, onion rings, milk shakes, ya know, fun, greasy food. We haven't figured out the cake yet, but we're working on it."

"That sounds just like you and Mac. What about colors and flowers?"

"We haven't decided on colors. Maybe light yellow. And you know me and flowers. I don't know the difference between a rose and a lily."

"It sounds perfect…I'm just not sure about the burger joint." Boston groaned and turned on the radio.

* * *

"Hurry up, B," Lindsey called from the sitting room. Lindsey, Stella, and Nora were all waiting for Boston to come out in the first dress. There was a large main area surrounded by mirrors and lights so that the dress could be properly inspected. Off to one side were some chairs for people wait in while the bride-to-be changed in another, more private, area. Finally, Boston pulled back the curtain and walked in wearing a puffy, dress covered in beads and a long train.

"It's...nice," Stella said unconvincingly.

"It is nice, for someone else. Like a princess," Boston said, stepping up onto a pedestal.

"It's not very appropriate for a beach wedding," Nora said handing Boston a veil.

"It does make your boobs look big, though. Mac might like that," Lindsey said examining the beadwork.

"Except Mac's already seen her boobs, so he'd know it was all an illusion," Stella laughed.

"Can we all stop talking about my boobs? Thanks." Boston rolled her eyes. Turning serious, she said, "This isn't the one." Walking back into the dressing room, she quickly changed into the next dress. "I feel like I should be in _The Little Mermaid_ and singing a song about loving the sea," she said walking out in dress that was tight over body and flared at her knees.

"At least it's all part of the beach theme," Stella deadpanned.

"Sarcasm doesn't help anyone," Boston sighed. "This is hopeless; I'll never find a dress." This was the eleventh shop they had been in and nothing seemed appropriate for Boston. They were all pretty, but she wanted something perfect. She wanted to feel beautiful and she wanted Mac to think she was beautiful.

"We still have time, honey," Nora said rubbing Boston' back.

"No, we don't. I have to order the dress and then it has to be altered and it all takes time," Boston started hyperventilating. "I won't get one in time and then we won't get married and then Mac will leave me and run off to Tijuana with some busty blonde – This isn't funny, guys!" Boston yelled when they started laughing.

"Sorry," Stella said in between laughs. "I'm just trying to imagine Mac with a busty blonde in Tijuana."

"I'm trying to imagine Mac in shorts!" Lindsey laughed. Boston sulked back to the dressing room and changed into the last dress.

All the laughter stopped when she walked out in the new dress. Boston saw tears well up in Nora's eyes and she smiled softly. "I think this is it."

"Boston." Nora walked closer to her and kissed her on the cheek. "You look gorgeous. I never thought this day would come."

Boston gave her mom a confused look. "Thanks, Mom."

Nora laughed and wiped away her tears. "That's not what I mean. I just thought...You're so independent, B. I never thought you'd find anyone who you'd want to become partners with. I'm so happy for you."

"Thanks, Mom," Boston said, sincerely this time.

"Mac is going to drop dead when he sees you in this dress. You look amazing!" Stella said.

"It's perfect." Lindsey chipped in.

"Yeah," Boston sighed happily. She was staring at herself in the dress and veil, trying to imagine what it would be like walking down the aisle to join Mac in their new life. She finally decided that it'd feel just right.

* * *

"What are you doing?" Mac asked, walking into their apartment. "You need to pack." They were leaving for Chicago tomorrow and Boston had yet to pack.

Boston looked up from her laptop. "Just doing some research." She returned her attention back to the screen as Mac kicked off his shoes and unbuttoned the top of his shirt.

"About your presentation?"

"What?" Boston wasn't really paying attention to him, so it took her a few minutes to realize what he was talking about. "No, that's been done for weeks. I'm researching something much more important...our wedding song." Mac cocked his eyebrow. "So, I've come up with a few options."

"Okay," Mac said hesitantly.

"Here's choice one." She stood up and pushed a button on the computer. Sean Kington's "Beautiful Girls" started playing through the speakers. Boston stared dancing but stopped when she saw Mac's frown. "Not a fan? Okay, here's choice two." Rihanna's "Umbrella" came on. "I think this really describes us. You can stand under my umbrella." Mac just stared at her. "Okay, seriously, this is my favorite." Hitting a button, Usher's "Yeah" came on. Boston started dancing. "C'mon, Mac, dance with me."

"I don't dance like that." Mac said.

"All you have to do is hold my hips and sway side to side; I'll do the rest of the work. Please. I _love_ this song." She grabbed his hands and tried to make him dance, but he just stood there. "You know you want a lady in the street, but a freak in the bed," she sang and danced sexily in front of him, brushing her body against his. Finally, Boston sighed and let go of his hands. She was about to change the song when Mac grabbed her wrist. He pulled her to the middle of the room. Grabbing her hips, he started to sway awkwardly. Boston smiled and resumed her dancing, mouthing the lyrics to Mac. When the song ended, Boston went back over to the computer and turned it to the next song. "I'm serious about this one. I think it's perfect, but I wanna know what you think."

Mac recognized the song instantly as Shania Twain's "You're Still the One." "It is perfect." They stood in place listening for a moment before Mac held out his hand. "Let me show you some of _my_ moves." Boston smiled and took his hand. They stood in the living room, wrapped in each other's arms, swaying back and forth even after the song had ended.

* * *

"Nervous?" Mac gently squeezed Boston's hand as they made their way down the terminal of O'Hare Airport in Chicago.

"Of giving my presentation or meeting your family?"

Mac shrugged, "Both."

"Presentation, no. Family, yes," she said gripping his hand a little harder.

"They're gonna love you."

She mumbled under her breath, "You don't know that."

Mac pulled her off to one side of the terminal. "I do know that. I know you and how amazing you are. There's no way that anyone can resist your charm." Giving her a quick kiss, he started to guide her to baggage claim.

"Bobby Santos resisted my charm," she said a moment later.

"Bobby Santos?" Mac asked with a smile and a questioning look.

"Yeah. I tried to seduce him in preschool and he ran away screaming." Mac laughed and shook his head.

"She made him laugh!" they heard a voice behind them say. "I'm already impressed." When she turned around, Boston saw three women who she recognized as Mac's two sisters and his mom.

"It's so nice to finally meet you, Boston. I'm Marie." Mac's mom pulled Boston into a warm hug. She was a short, full figured woman with curled, white hair. When Marie pulled apart, she kept her arm around Boston's waist. "This is Julia," she said pointing to a woman in her early forties. "And this is Maggie." A lady looking to be in her mid thirties waved.

"Hi. It's nice meeting you." Boston and Mac hugged each of the women.

"Mac didn't do you justice," Maggie said. Mac rolled his eyes and went to grab the baggage.

"Seriously, you're beautiful. Why are you with Mac?" Julia laughed.

"I know you may not have noticed, seeing as Mac is your brother and all, but he's pretty hot."

"Oh. My. God! Look at her ring!" Julia grabbed hand and started inspecting the ring.

"Wow, who knew that big brother had such good taste." Maggie took one last look and then let Boston's hand drop. "So, tell us everything about the wedding." The women heard Mac groan as he joined them with his and Boston's luggage.

* * *

"Your mom is a great cook. Now I know where Mac's gets it from," Boston told Julia and Maggie as they cleared the table. Mac was out in the garage with Marie changing her car's oil. Maggie and Julie looked at each other and then back at Boston.

"Listen, Boston, I'm just going to cut to the chase," Maggie said, leaning against the dishwasher. "We have some...concerns. You seem like a great girl, but you're just so...young." Boston was speechless. She thought she had been making a good impression. She hadn't made any inappropriate jokes and had answered all their questions. Now, here she was, being bombard by Mac's sisters.

"We're just not sure that you two are in the same places in your life. You're young and have your whole life ahead of you. You don't want to settle down now. Especially not with a workaholic widower," Julia said.

"Mac was devastated after Claire died and was hurt deeply after Peyton left. We don't want to see him hurt again." Maggie paused. "So, if you have any doubts, you should just leave now."

Boston was silent for a second, and then said quietly, "I'm glad that you guys have Mac's back. He deserves people like that in his life...I can't control my age any more than Mac can control his, but we're handling it. We know it's not going to be easy and that there will be always be a gap between us. There's times when I have no idea where he's coming from or when he thinks I'm acting too childish, but we work through it because we love each other." Boston took a deep breath and tried to control her emotions. "I'm not Claire and I'm not Peyton. I can't promise you that I won't ever die. In fact, I can promise you that I _will_ die." Maggie and Julia cracked a smile at that. "But, I can swear to you that I will never leave Mac. I will love him for the rest of my life. I don't care if he is a workaholic or a widower or quiet or a bad dancer or horrible at miniature golf. All I care is that he's the one who has _my_ back."

"I'm not _that_ bad at miniature golf." Boston whirled around to see Mac and Marie standing in kitchen doorway. She smiled as she felt her cheeks heat up. Turning to his sisters, Mac said, "I appreciate what you guys are doing, but I'm forty-seven years old. You guys know that I don't rush into anything."

"That's the understatement of the year." Julia rolled her eyes. "Remember when you bought your first car? It took you four months to decide which one you wanted." Boston laughed and poked Mac in the side as he put his arm around her waist.

The group talked for another two hours. Finally, Mac and Boston said their goodnights and went up to Mac's old room. His parents had converted it into an office, but had kept Mac's bed and books in the room. Boston looked at his books and smiled. Numerous science and military books lined the shelves. She picked up a photograph of a young Mac in his Marine dress blues standing next to an older man with a mustache. "Is this your dad?"

Mac came up behind her and laid his hands on her hips. Looking at the photo, he propped his chin on top of her head. "Yeah. That was taken just before I was shipped out to Beirut. He was a sailor."

"Isn't there a big rivalry between the Navy and Marines?"

"Yeah. I've never seen my dad more pissed than the day I told him I became a Marine." Mac let out a laugh. "He came around eventually, but I think he was always a little disappointed that I never became a sailor." Mac took a second to collect his thoughts. "The bed's not big enough for both of us, so I'll take the floor."

Boston turned around in his arms. "We can both fit."

"There's no way. It's only a twin."

Boston shrugged her shoulders and walked over to the bed. Laying down, she said, "We can squeeze together. Or you can be on top of me," she raised her eyebrows at him suggestively.

"Boston."

"Okay, okay. I'll be on top." Mac laughed and sat down on the bed beside her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him on top of her.

"I've actually always wanted to fool around in my childhood room," Mac mumbled into her neck.

Boston pushed his face away. "I was joking! There is no way that we are going to have sex with your mom down the hall."

"I'm not talking about sex...We can do other stuff." Mac pushed her shirt up to give his hand better access to her stomach.

"Mac," Boston scolded him halfheartedly.

"We fooled around in the barn at your parent's house, so why can't we do it here?"

Boston didn't say anything for a minute, but she finally she pulled Mac's shirt out of his pants. "Nothing below the belt."

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading!


	25. Not In The Plan

A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews. I really hope you like this chapter! Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Boston.

* * *

Mac woke up when he felt Boston slide out of bed. "Bos?" he asked groggily.

"Go back to sleep," she said simply as she flipped on the bathroom light and shut the door behind her.

Mac shut his eyes, but quickly opened them when he heard Boston retching. He quickly jumped out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. Knocking lightly on the door, he asked quietly, "Boston?"

"I'm fine, Mac. Go back to sleep."

Mac could tell by the crack in her voice that she was crying. Slowly pushing open the door, Mac saw Boston laying beside the toilet. "What are doing?" Mac asked taking a seat beside her. Mac realized it was a stupid question the second it left his lips.

"I'm milking a cow. What's it look like I'm doing?" Boston snapped.

"It looks like you're worshipping the porcelain god."

"Mac! I don't need you making fun of me."

"I'm sorry," he said rubbing her back. "Why are you crying?"

"Because I'm sick, Mac! Try and keep up." Taking a deep breath, she started again in a gentler tone. "I'm sorry. It's just...I can't be sick now. The wedding's in a month, our moms are coming into town in a week, and I'm falling behind at work. I can't be sick." Mac couldn't believe that in a little over a month, they'd be husband and wife. He'd been back to work for three months now, and they had quickly fallen back into a routine. Mac had been working extra shifts to make up for the week he'd be taking off for the wedding and honeymoon and Boston had been busy with work and finishing up all the last minute details for the wedding. Both of their moms were coming in for the weekend for Boston's final dress fitting. Mac smiled lightly at the thought of Boston in a wedding dress, but she took it to mean that he was belittling her. "This isn't funny Mac!" She started to push him away. "Just leave. You're such an ass."

"I wasn't making fun of you. I know you're stressed and don't feel well. How about I run to store and get you some soup?" Boston thought about it for a minute. A minute later she wiped her eyes and nodded. Mac stood up and headed for the door. "Okay, I'll be back in a few." He handed her a hair tie and she just looked up at him. "So nothing gets in your hair."

* * *

Boston's sickness still came and went, but for the most part she was feeling better a week later. Boston and Mac were currently lying in bed, enjoying a night in before their moms came the next day.

"That must be the pizza," Boston said when she heard the doorbell ring. When Mac didn't stop kissing her legs, she pressed on, "C'mon, Mackie. I need my energy."

Mac looked up at her and cocked his eyebrow. "I thought I was supposed to be the old one." Boston pointed at the door and Mac got the hint. He ran his hands up her legs one last time and smirked when he felt her shiver. He pulled on a pair of jeans and a black tee before heading out the bedroom.

Boston heard him open the door and close it a minute later. Getting a brilliant idea, she jumped out of bed and headed for the living room, just wearing a bra and panties. "We should also grab some whipped cream," Boston called as she walked through the apartment. "Because there's nothing that I like more than you and whipped – " She stopped in midsentence when she saw both their moms standing in the middle of the living room. Quickly grabbing a blanket off the chair next to her, Boston tried to cover herself up. "You're not the pizza man."

"No, we're not," Nora said with a smile.

Boston nodded her head and said, "I think I saw this happen in a movie once." She was sure that her face was bright red and she silently sent Mac death threats for not stepping in.

"How does it end?" Marie asked.

Boston smiled. "The girl goes and commits suicide because of embarrassment...So, I'm gonna go do that now...and maybe put on some pants," Boston said, turning around and walking quickly back to the bedroom. On her out she could hear Nora ask, "I wonder how she gets her stomach so flat?" and Marie say, "You're a lucky boy, Mac."

As soon as she was in the bedroom, she flopped down on the bed and started laughing. She covered her face with her hands and stayed like that for a minute until she heard the door open slowly. "Hey, Bos," she heard Mac say quietly. He sat down beside her and put his hand on her stomach. "I'm sorry. I didn't know they were coming early."

Boston moved her hands and looked at Mac. "They saw me naked."

"You weren't completely naked. Plus, your mom's already seen you naked, so who cares?" Boston sighed and Mac realized he wasn't helping. "C'mon. At least your hot, so that makes it okay." They faintly heard the doorbell ring again.

"That's either the pizza or the rest of our families."

"Wanna come out and give them a peep show, too?" Mac smiled.

"Jerk." Boston took a deep breath, "Okay, I'm good. I'll be out in a minute." Mac leaned down and gave her a quick kiss before heading out the room. Taking a deep breath, Boston finally pushed herself off the bed and went to the closet. She quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and an orange t-shirt and put her hair into a ponytail.

Walking out to the living room, Boston put a smile on her face. "Do you guys want anything to drink?"

"No. You guys enjoy your pizza. We probably should have called before we came, but we wanted to surprise you guys," Marie said.

"Well, you did," Mac said. "Thanks, Bos." He took the plate and drink that Boston was holding out to him.

"I've never been to New York in July. It's so beautiful." Marie reached over and grabbed an olive off of Mac's slice.

Boston smiled lightly at the gesture. "I hope you guys will stay here. We have a guestroom and an air mattress."

"Oh, no, that's okay. We got two rooms at the Waldorf."

Mac looked at his mom skeptically, "The Waldorf, Mom?"

"We're gonna have a lady's weekend." Nora said innocently.

Boston smiled, "Well, don't do anything I wouldn't do." Taking a bite of her pizza, she got a funny look on her face. Putting her plate on the coffee table, she quickly ran out of the room.

Mac watched her leave then turned back to the women. "She hasn't been feeling well for a couple of weeks. I better go check on her." Nora and Marie looked at each once Mac had left the room. They grinned and hugged each other. They knew why Boston was sick and they couldn't be happier.

* * *

"Oh my god, Boston! You look amazing," Marie said as Boston walked out of the dressing room. She gave a teary laugh, "I didn't think I'd be this emotional."

"Oh, I left your veil out in the truck. I'll go get it," Nora said and headed for the exit.

Marie walked up behind Boston and looked at her in the mirror. "You're so beautiful."

Boston gave a small smile. "I hope Mac likes it."

Marie started weeping again and Boston turned around to comfort her. She dabbed at her eyes with a Kleenex. "I'm just so happy for Mac. After Claire passed, I thought he would never let anyone in again. I was so worried for him." She took a breath and touched Boston's hair. "I'm so happy he found you. You two are the perfect match." Boston wiped her eyes and pulled Marie in for a hug. "I know Julia and Maggie are still giving you a hard time, but don't let them get to you. Mac's their big brother and they just don't want to see him get hurt."

Boston nodded her head. "I understand. And I'll deal with it for the rest of my life if I have to."

"Have you told Mac you're pregnant," Marie asked bluntly.

Boston's eyes popped out, "Oh, no, I'm not, uh, I can't be pregnant."

"Honey, you _are_ pregnant," Nora said walking in with Boston's veil.

"No. We have a plan...We have a plan; we can't have a baby now. We have a plan"

"Sometime's plans don't work out. You're pregnant. You've been sick, you barely ate anything at lunch, and from the show we got yesterday, it looks like you and Mac are sexually active," Marie said.

"There's no way," Boston said turning back to the mirror. "There's no way."

* * *

After Boston dropped off Nora and Marie at their hotel, she headed to the drug store. She knew that there was no way that she could be pregnant but she had to be sure. She had only intended to buy one test, but there were so many options and she didn't know which one to buy. So she did the only thing natural and bought them all. Mac was at work until midnight, so she'd have a couple hours to herself.

When Mac did finally arrive home, he found her sitting on the kitchen counter eating ice cream. "Hey, Bos," he greeted her with a kiss and she broke down into tears. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"This wasn't how it was supposed to be," she said leaning in for a hug. She gripped his shirt tightly and sobbed into his shoulder

"What wasn't supposed to be?" Mac asked, gently smoothing her hair.

Boston pulled away and gestured to her body. "This! This isn't how I planned it. I didn't want to be one of _those_ girls. What will people think? We had a plan and this definitely does not follow that plan. We were going to wait a couple of years. We were going to wait! What about my career? What about _your_ career? Can we afford it? This is all your fault. I told you we shouldn't have done it because I ran out of my pills. But no! You couldn't keep it in your pants!"

"Boston," Mac said calmly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm pregnant," Boston said softly, not looking at Mac.

Mac's breath hitched. Cupping Boston's face is his hands, he asked her urgently, "We're having a baby?" She nodded her head. "How do you know?" Mac had to be one hundred percent sure. He didn't want to get his hopes up, just to have them be crushed.

"I think the eighteen positive tests lying on the bathroom floor are proof enough."

Mac digested all this for a minute before his face broke out into a huge grin. "We're having a baby!" He pulled Boston in for a passionate kiss. "I'm so happy."

Boston smiled softly, "Me, too."

Wiping her tears away with his thumbs, Mac asked quietly, "Then we are you crying?"

Sighing, Boston ran her hands through her hair. "It's just not how we planned. What are we going to do? I didn't want to be pregnant at my wedding. I don't want people to think that's why we're getting married."

"But, that's _not_ why we're getting married. We're getting married because we're madly in love and want to spend the rest of our lives together. And now our love created a little miracle. We'll figure the rest out as we go." Mac rested his head in the slope of her neck. He mumbled against her skin, "Sometimes the best things in life aren't planned."

They remained like that for several minutes, both lost in their thoughts. Boston was thinking about how amazing Mac was. He could always talk her down from the ledge and calm her down. He was her best friend and she never felt right unless Mac was by her side. She knew that their child would be the luckiest little boy or girl in the world to have Mac as their dad. Mac was thinking about how thankful he was for Boston. Not only did she love him despite all his flaws, but she had also granted him the most precious gift. He had always wanted to be a father, but that dream had died along side Claire. In less than nine months, he'd get to meet his little boy or girl and that was all thanks to Boston.

Gently touching Mac's neck, Boston whispered, "Make love to me." Mac nodded before picking her up and carrying her back to their bedroom.

* * *

Mac woke up sometime in the middle of the night to Boston poking him in his side. Frowning, he sat up slightly and placed his hand protectively over Boston's stomach. "Is everything alright?"

Boston smiled and scooted closer to him. "Yeah, we're okay." Mac smiled; there was a "we" now. Boston softly touched Mac's face, lightly letting her fingers trace his nose and lips. "I don't think I really conveyed to you how happy I am. I was too busy freaking out about how my plan was going askew to actually tell you that I am so...incredibly...unbelievably...extremely...extraordinarily...unimaginably...happy." She punctuated each word with a kiss on Mac's chest. "I _cannot_ wait to become your wife, have your child, and start our family."

With love shining in his eyes, Mac tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and let his hand run down to her neck. "Thank you. For letting me be your husband, for having my child, and for wanting to start a family with me. I promise I won't make you regret it."

* * *

A/N: As always, thanks for reading!


	26. The Day Has Come

A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews. A shout out to **Bmangaka **for giving me the whole Sheldon talk idea. And just a warning, I know nothing about being pregnant, so all the stuff mentioned was what I gathered from the internet, so there are good odds that it might be wrong. I hope you all like this chapter. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Boston.

* * *

Boston wiped the sweat from her forehead and hit the soccer ball straight into the net. It was three days before the wedding and to say that she was stressed would be the understatement of the century. Both her and Mac's families were in town and were driving Boston crazy. Her brothers were being their usual smartass selves, her mom was becoming overly clingy, Mac's mom wouldn't stop smiling at her, and his sisters kept dropping not-so-subtle jabs about her age. Mac had to work every day this week except for Friday, so she had been left alone to entertain the troops. She had finally snuck out to get her aggression and frustration out the only way she knew how. Running to the goal, she retrieved the ball. Turning around, she saw Mac standing in the middle of the field in his work clothes. He always knew when she needed him and he always came to her rescue. Smiling, she kicked the ball towards him, circled around him, and kicked it, sending it sailing into the goal easily. Coming up close to him, she touched the collar of his dark red shirt. "I like you in this shirt," she said softly.

"I like you in anything." Boston smiled again and rested her head on his shoulder. She felt his arms encircle her and she sighed in contentment. This was her favorite place in the world. "How are you?" he asked a moment later.

"Stressed." She didn't bother lying; he would see right through it. They started to sway back and forth to the music in their heads.

"Anything I can help with?"

"Wanna elope?"

Mac laughed and kissed her hair. "I have tomorrow off, so I can help with anything you need."

"Almost everything's done already. Just make sure that you and Reed pick up your stuff from the dry cleaner's. Oh, and can you pick up the rings?"

"I can definitely do that." They were silent for several more minutes, both just enjoying being in the presence of the other. Mac pulled away with a kiss. "We should probably get going. We both need to shower before the rehearsal dinner."

Boston nodded and they walked hand in hand to grab her ball. "So," Boston said mischiefly, "wanna take a shower together?"

* * *

"That shower was _so_ worth being late," Boston said to Mac as the approached Cozy's. They were fifteen minutes late to their own rehearsal dinner. They had gone down to the beach the previous night for the actual rehearsal, but had decided to have the dinner this evening due to the Lab's work schedule. Mac had managed to arrange for the entire team to have Thursday and Friday nights off as well as all day Saturday. It was important to both of them that everyone could be there to share in this experience.

"It was." Mac smiled, wrapping his arm around her waist. "Ready?" he asked reaching for the door.

"Yeah," Boston nodded taking a deep breath. She gave one last look down the street and saw Sheldon walking quickly. "Wait, Mac." She tugged on his arm and he stepped back from the door. "I wanna talk to Shel for a minute. You go on ahead." Mac nodded. He was surprised that it had taken Boston this long to talk to Sheldon. While she had grown accustomed to the idea of being pregnant, she still constantly worried about it. Mac had done his best in comforting her, but he was worried too. Giving Boston a kiss on the cheek, he opened the door again and stepped into the bar. Boston waited until Hawkes was closer. "Hey, Shel. Can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Sure. What's up?"

Boston led him to a nearby bench. "Well," she sighed and twisted her hands together. "We haven't told anyone, just our parents, so you can't tell anyone, but," she finally looked up and met Hawkes' eyes, "we're pregnant." Smiling, she accepted his hug.

"That's wonderful. You guys will be terrific parents," Hawkes said.

"Thanks. What I really want to talk about is…I'm feeling kinda unprepared and I don't know what to expect."

Sheldon nodded and slipped into doctor mode. "Have you seen a doctor yet?"

"Yeah, a couple of weeks ago. They did a blood test and asked us a freakish amount of questions. Our first ultrasound is the day after we get back from our honeymoon."

"How far along are you?

"13 weeks."

Sheldon nodded his head and digested the information. "Any symptoms?"

Boston smiled at his methodological ways. She could tell that he had been a great doctor. "A little morning sickness, although in the last week or so, that has died down. Lately I've been having heart burn and have been experiencing changes in the food I like. Not cravings, but the taste of some foods that I used to love has become less than appealing. And…" she paused and looked away.

Sheldon touched her arm softly. "You can talk to me. I won't tell anyone, not even Mac."

Boston smiled, looking back at him. "I've been really…well, let's just say Mac and I have been…_together_ more than usual."

Sheldon nodded. "Increased sexual activity is completely normal for some women. There is nothing wrong that."

"This is a stupid question, but could he...ya know, could Mac...hurt the baby."

"Not at all. The fetus is protected in amniotic sac which is in the uterus. And nothing can get into the uterus. How's Mac taking all this?"

Boston grinned, "Wonderful. He's so excited. The day after I told him he ran out and bought, like, twenty books about being pregnant and raising a baby and then went through and childproofed our entire apartment."

Hawkes laughed, "That sounds like Mac, all right."

They talked a little while longer before heading in. Just outside the door, Boston leaned in to give Hawkes a hug. "Thanks, Shel. I feel a lot better."

"It was my pleasure," he said holding open the door for her. They greeted by a chorus of shouts and Boston patted Hawkes' arm before making her way through the crowd, mingling as she went.

* * *

"Hey, babe," Boston greeted Mac with kiss as she took the seat beside him at the bar. "What ya doin'?"

"Hey, I just needed a minute alone."

Boston smiled. "Okay." She turned to stand up, but Mac grabbed her arm.

"I didn't mean away from you." She nodded and sat back down. Taking a sip of his drink, Mac turned to look at the party behind them. He saw his mom dancing with one of Boston's brothers. And standing next to the jukebox, Adam was flirting awkwardly with one of Boston and Lindsey's sorority sisters. Turning back to Boston, he put his arm around her and rested his hand on her shoulder. "How'd your talk with Hawkes go?"

"Good. I feel a lot better that what I'm experiencing is completely normal." She leaned in close and whispered in his ear, "It's also normal for me to feel the need to jump your bones at all hours of the day." Boston pulled back and grinned when she noticed Mac reach down and readjust his pants.

"Hey guys, do you have a minute?" Boston and Mac turned around and saw Reed standing in front of them, shifting uncomfortably.

"Hey, Reed! I haven't seen you all night." Boston stood up, giving the young man a hug.

"I've been around. Anyway, I just wanted to thank you both."

"For what?"

Reed swayed a little side to side and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I know that you guys have been paying half my rent." Boston and Mac looked at each other briefly. "I just...I really appreciate it and I promise that as soon as I can manage, I'll start paying the whole thing."

"We're just glad that we can help. We're always here if you need us." Mac said.

"But, if it ever gets too much for you guys, tell me and I'll figure something out."

"Fair enough," Mac said, clapping Reed on his shoulder.

* * *

"That was fun," Boston said later that night as they entered their bedroom. Mac watched as she kicked off her shoes and started unbuttoning her blouse. He felt his arousal strain against his jeans as she pushed her shirt off and threw into the hamper. She had no clue that Mac was watching her shimmy out of her jeans. While she wasn't really showing, Mac noticed that her stomach had become slightly rounder than before and he had sure as hell noticed that her breasts were not only larger, but also more sensitive. She nearly went crazy every time he touched, kissed, or licked her breasts. He was loving all the changes that Boston was going through. He had never seen her look more beautiful and he wanted these next six months to last forever. Boston turned around to face Mac, running a hand over her stomach. "Sheldon says that the baby can hear, so we should play it music or talk to it."

Mac walked over and dropped to his knees in front of her. He gently placed his hand over her stomach and kissed it. He looked at Boston. "I don't know what to say."

Boston shrugged and ran her hand through his hair. "Say whatever you're feeling."

Mac thought about it for a minute. Finally, he brought his mouth close to her stomach and spoke calmly and softly. "Hi. I'm your daddy. I can't wait to you. I'm gonna love you and protect you and I'll be there whenever you need me. I love you." Mac softly kissed Boston's stomach again before looking up at her. He saw the tears in her eyes. "I love you, too, you know."

Boston smiled and wiped her eyes. "I _do_ know. I love you." She ran her hand through his hair again, rougher this time and gripped his shoulder.

Mac recognized the gesture and started kissing her stomach, making his way down to the edge of her panties. "Do you feel like jumping my bones now?" he asked, licking her hipbone.

Boston laughed and pushed him to the ground before straddling him. "Always."

* * *

Mac jolted up when he heard someone enter his hotel room. Kicking himself for not bringing his gun, he quickly looked around trying to find a weapon. He heard the intruder knock into something and let a curse. "Boston?" Mac would know that voice anywhere.

"Hey, babe." Mac quickly turned on the light and looked at Boston. "Sorry, I woke you." He gave her a confused look, so she continued, "I just...I couldn't sleep without you." She crawled into bed and laid down beside him. She rested her head on his shoulder and put her hand on his chest, fingering his scare while he lazily played with her hair. They both laid in silence before Boston broke it. "How was your party?"

It was the night before their wedding and the night of their Bachelor and Bachelorette Parties. Mac, Reed, Danny, Flack, Adam, Sheldon, Sid, the guys from his band, and Boston's brothers had all went out to a bar. They had drank, laughed, and told stories. They had talked about Boston and how much Mac had changed since meeting her. It had all been pretty routine until a girl dressed as a slutty Red Sox player had walked in. She walked over to the group, seductively leaning over the table so that her cleavage was in full view and had asked who was the lucky groom. Everyone had turned to look at Mac as the girl sauntered over to him and proceeded to lean in close to his ear and whisper, "Boston says to have fun." She then licked Mac's ear and started to strip. She had stopped when she got to her undies and then gave Mac a lap dance. Mac had sat straight in his chair with an unreadable expression and didn't move an inch, his hands gripping the arms of the chair. He tried not to look at the women, which only made her work harder. He was sure that his face was bright red and was silently debating whether he loved or hated Boston for doing this to him. Once she was done, she put her skimpy clothes back on, sat on Mac's lap, and talked with the guys for another hour. "Thanks for the present," Mac told Boston.

She looked up at him and grinned. "I thought you'd like it."

"I'd like it better if it had been you in that getup," Mac teased. "How was your party? Did you get lap dances from any cops?"

Boston laughed and poked Mac in his chest. "No. My evening was lap dance free." Boston, Lindsey, Stella, her sisters, Mac's sisters, and her sorority sisters had all dressed up and went out to dinner at a super expensive restaurant. They had tried to get her to drink, but since she and Mac had decided to not tell anyone about the pregnancy, Boston had to make up the excuse that she didn't want to be hung over on her wedding day. After dinner, the group had made its way to a hot club and spent the evening dancing and ogling men. "Although, I did freak dance with this guy named Rocco."

"Are you going to leave me for Rocco?" Mac asked playfully.

"I thought about it, but he's a dog walker and that's just not as sexy as being a detective."

"I've always wondered why you're with me. Now, I know; it's because I carry a badge."

"Don't forget the gun." Mac laughed and leaned down to kiss Boston.

They stayed like for a while longer, before Mac finally pulled apart. "Were my sisters okay? Did they say anything rude?"

Boston shrugged. "They made a few comments. It's strange because sometimes they're really nice to me and I think that they actually like me. But then in the next breath they can say hurtful things. I don't understand it."

Mac tightened his grip on her hip, pulling her closer. "I'm sorry. I tired talking to them, but they're both so conservative that they can't get passed the age thing."

"You're really conservative, but you got passed it," Boston said softly.

"Not at first. But then I got to know you. You charmed me, and once you charm them, they'll come around and realize how amazing you are." Boston nodded her head in agreement, but didn't say anything. "Not that I'm complaining, but why are you here?" Mac asked gently.

Boston shrugged. "I already told you, I couldn't sleep without you."

Mac wasn't buying it. "You sleep all the time without me."

"Okay," she sighed. "I didn't _want_ to sleep without you." Mac couldn't argue with that. Before Boston had broke into his hotel room, Mac had been lying in bed for two hours, thinking about tomorrow, how happy he was, and how proud Claire would be of him.

"I thought we'd agreed to go along with tradition and not see each other until the wedding." That's why Mac had gotten this room in the first place. Boston had made such a big deal about keeping that tradition.

"It seemed like such a good idea at the time." Boston snuggled closer to him, wrapping her arm around his chest.

"Boston," Mac said quietly. "It was important to you."

Boston sighed. "I know. But if I go home now, I know I won't be able to sleep and then I'll be tired for our wedding."

"How about this," Mac suggested. "You head home and call me when you get there. I'll talk to you until you fall to sleep."

"I guess that'd be okay," Boston whispered, kissing Mac's chest.

They were both silent for five more minutes before Boston pushed herself off the bed. Mac stood up too and led her out to the door. "I'll walk you out," Mac said as they entered the elevator. He waved down a taxi for her and held the door open for her.

"I'll see you at the end of the aisle?" Boston asked as she got inside.

Mac smiled. "I'll be waiting." With that, he shut the door and watched the cab drive away.

* * *

"It's time." Mac turned around and saw the minister standing at the door. "Ya ready?"

Mac smiled and said without hesitation, "I've never been more ready." He stood up, took a deep breath, and quickly wiped off his khaki pants and straightened his causal, off white, button up shirt. He was so ready. He slowly lifted up the flap of the tent that had been erected for the men to get ready in. The sun was just starting to set and Mac looked around to see all their friends and family sitting in white, wooden folding chairs. The sand was warm on Mac's bare feet, but he enjoyed the sensation and curled his toes in it. Walking to the front, he shook Reed's hand and smiled at his mom, who was already weeping. Reed reached over and adjusted the pale yellow calla lily that was pinned to Mac's shirt and sent him a smile. Boston's sister, Jone, starting walking down the steps that led to the beach. She looked pretty in her short, pale yellow dress. As she approached, she gave Mac a teary eyed smile and took her place across from Reed. Finally, Louis Armstrong's "What A Wonderful World" started playing and Mac felt his chest tighten in anticipation. And then he saw Boston walking down the steps with her father, the sun bouncing off her hair making her look like an angel. He stared at her dumbly, unable to comprehend how stunning she was. Her dress was off white and was covered with beaded lace. It had a deep v-neck in the front and back and had lace straps. Her hair was down in waves and blew slightly in the wind. He was thankful that her veil wasn't pulled over her head, because he wanted to be able to look in her eyes. He felt his breath quicken and his eyes fill with tears when she got closer and gave him a beaming smile. He smiled back and bit back a laugh when he saw her dark red toes peek out of her dress. He always loved when she wore red nail polish on her toes. He had told her how sexy it was and now it was all she wore.

Mac took a few steps to meet her. He stuck out his hand to shake her dad's, but instead he was pulled into a hug. Mac laughed when her dad whispered so that only he could hear, "She's your problem now. Treat her right." Mac nodded and carefully grabbed Boston's hand. He smiled at her and guided her to their place in front of the minister.

Mac couldn't have told you what the minister had said, even if his life depended on it. He was too busy relishing the feeling of Boston's hand in his, knowing that she was going to be by his side for the rest of his life. They had decided to write their own vows, but when it actually came time to deliver them, Mac regretted that decision. He was having trouble remembering the words that he had painstakingly written and heard his voice quack as he looked at Boston. "Boston Madison Waters. I'm a man of science. I don't believe in fate or luck or taking risks. And then you came along and proved me wrong. You proved to me that you have take risks sometimes and now I'm the luckiest guy in the world because you took a risk in loving me. I promise I won't make you regret it." Mac reached up and brushed away the few tears that had escaped Boston's eyes. "I promise to always be there to wipe away your tears. I promise to always let you warm your feet on my leg. I promise to watch _Sex and the City _with you whenever you want." Boston let out a teary laugh. "But most importantly, I promise to spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you because there are no words to describe how I feel about you. I love you with every ounce of my being and I am so proud to call you my wife." Boston wiped her eyes and smiled as Reed handed Mac the wedding ring. Mac leaned in close and whispered in her ear, "I had them engraved." She gave him a questioning look, took the ring, and glanced at the inside. Sure enough, in tiny cursive writing was the phrase "M and B, Semper Fi," inscribed into the diamond band. She smiled again and Mac slid it onto her hand.

Boston took a moment to collect her thoughts before beginning her vows. "Mac 'No Middle Name' Taylor. A year and a half ago, I would never have thought that I'd be standing here, getting ready to marry my best friend or getting married to a Cub's fan." Mac laughed and shook his head. "And yet, looking back, I can't understand how I survived without you. How I survived without your quiet words or your sarcasm or your loving looks. And I can't imagine ever living without them. You always tell me that you won't make me regret loving you. But, I know how hard it was for you take the plunge, and I won't ever make you regret risking it all for me. I promise that I will always know what you're saying, even when you can't find the words." Mac felt his chest tighten and willed himself not to cry. "I promise to never stop teasing you because I know it keeps you young. I promise to always be waiting for you at the end of the day with a smile and a kiss. And I promise that I won't ever leave you. I love you more than you can ever know." It was Boston's turn to gently wipe away the tears that had fallen down Mac's cheeks. "I love you," she whispered and Mac nodded his head. She turned around to Jone and exchanged her flowers for Mac's simple titanium ring. Mac had wanted something that he could wear to work and not worry about it getting damaged. Boston had loved it because it was simple and strong, just like Mac. As she slipped the ring onto Mac's finger she looked him in the eye. "You are my best friend."

The minister said a few more words before finally telling Mac to kiss his bride. He cupped Boston's cheek with one hand and gently gripped her hip in the other. He pulled into a sweet, gentle, loving kiss, pulling away after a few seconds and hugging her. He whispered in her ear. "I am so happy. Thank you. For everything."

Boston smiled and twisted her head to kiss his cheek. "I would do it all again, in a heartbeat."

* * *

After the ceremony, Mac and Boston had taken a few pictures and then everyone walked over to the burger place where the reception was to be held. They couldn't seem to stop touching each other. Mac would put his arm around her shoulders when they were sitting; he would rest his hand on the small of her back as they walked; she would grab his hand while they mingled; and when he thought no one was looking, Mac would sneak a kiss. They danced together and with their parents, cut the cake, and mingled with everyone. They're duties were officially over and now they were free to enjoy themselves. Boston was talking with Mac's band, when she heard Mac ask everyone to quiet down. "We just wanna thank everyone for coming and enjoying this day with us. I know we've already had our first dance, but I am asking my beautiful wife to join me on the dance floor one more time." Boston looked at Mac with a questioning look. He nodded at the DJ and Usher's "Yeah" came over the speakers. Boston laughed and met Mac in the middle of the floor. He gripped her hips and started to dance. It was still a little awkward, but he actually wasn't that bad. She smiled and started to dance with him. "I had Reed show me some steps," he whispered into her ear. They danced for a few more songs and then finally said their goodbyes to the group and headed out to the truck, which Boston's nieces and nephews had decorated for them.

"So, where are we off, too?" Boston asked as Mac pulled onto the street. Mac had insisted that he take care of all the honeymoon details. He had also been persistent in the fact that it would be a surprise to her. The only details he would tell her were that it was warm, and she'd need a swimsuit and her passport.

Mac looked over and took her hand. "We spend tonight at The Plaza and we leave tomorrow for our trip."

"The Plaza?" Boston had never even stepped into The Plaza but she got the distinct feeling that it was rather expensive.

"Hey," he squeezed her hand. "I want this night to perfect." And it was perfect. Mac had reserved the most magnificent rooms Boston had ever seen. The whole room was lit by candles. Mac had helped Boston take off her dress and change into something more comfortable. They had shared a glass of sparkling cider and chocolate covered strawberry's before Mac picked up his guitar from the corner of the room and started playing for Boston. She had cried, Mac had kissed her, and they had made love into the wee hours of the morning.

* * *

A/N: Yay, their married! I hope it lived up to all your expectations. Thanks for reading.


	27. Jamaican Me Crazy

A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews. This will probably be the last update until after Thanksgiving. I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Boston.

* * *

"Boston," Mac gently ran his hand down her arm. She didn't stir, so Mac started kissing the back of her shoulders. "Bos, you need to wake up." Boston finally opened her eyes and rolled onto her back so that now Mac was leaning over her. She squinted up at him and he gently traced her face. Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, he kissed her softly. "I got breakfast for us, Mrs. Taylor."

Boston gave Mac a wide smile and tugged his neck, pulling him down for another kiss. "Thanks, Mr. Waters." It was Mac's turn to laugh. He reached down and kissed Boston again. "What's for breakfast, hubby?"

Mac climbed off the bed and wheeled the room service tray closer to the bed. Carefully lifting one of the lids, he said, "We have waffles, eggs, French Toast, and because I know how much you love to eat lunch foods for breakfast," he lifted another lid, "chicken strips and French fries."

"This is amazing. I love you, Mac." Boston leaned in as if she were going to kiss him, but instead grabbed a fry, grinning up at him as she took a bite.

"That was not very nice," Mac said just before pouncing on her. She squealed as Mac straddled her, pinning her arms above her head and slipped his hand under the sheets.

Forty minutes later, Boston reached over Mac again and grabbed a chicken strip. "When do we have to leave?"

"In a couple of hours," Mac said taking a swig of coffee.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going?" she asked giving him her best puppy eyes.

Mac flicked her nose playfully, "You'll find out when we get to the airport."

Boston frowned, and then said, "You're being really flirty today."

"Well, I did just get married and am looking forward to spending five days alone with my beautiful, sexy, amazing wife. Life doesn't get much better than this." He pulled Boston in closer to his chest and took another sip of coffee.

* * *

"Jamaica!" Boston yelled. "Are you kidding me?" She jumped into Mac's arms. Laughing, he stumbled backwards, trying not to hit any of the other travelers. Once they had pulled apart, Mac reached into his carry-on bag and pulled out a book. "I also got you this to read on the plane."

Boston took the book and glanced at the title, "_Jamaica: A Complete History_. I hope you realize that now we will have to visit all the cool historical places."

"Yes, I did realize that."

"Jamaican me crazy." Mac groaned at the lame joke as Boston dragged him towards the terminal.

* * *

"I feel like we're cheating," Stella asked sliding into the booth across from Mac. Looking up from his coffee, Mac raised an eyebrow. "Because we're sneaking around your wife's back."

Mac laughed, "This was Boston's idea. She thought I needed to spend some time with you."

Stella looked confused, "Why?"

Mac shrugged his shoulders. "She said something about how me and you were friends before I ever met her. I learned long ago to stop trying to figure her out."

"So, how was the honeymoon?" Stella asked eagerly.

"It was...fun," Mac said with a smirk.

"Mac Taylor having fun. That's something I never thought I'd hear." Mac didn't say anything. He just picked up his cup and stared dreamily at the coffee inside as he swirled it around absentmindedly. Stella smiled at Mac's expression. "You've changed a lot since meeting Boston."

Mac glanced up. "For the better, I hope."

"Definitely for the better," Stella nodded. "_This_ is the Mac Taylor that I know and love."

Mac smiled and changed the subject, "How are things with Flack?"

"Good...Things are good," she grinned. "Look at us, our lives are finally starting to come together."

Mac nodded. "It's nice, isn't it?" They talked for another half an hour before Mac reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of bills. "I gotta go meet Boston," he said throwing the money down onto the table, "but you're coming to Sullivan's tonight, right?"

"We'll be there. Tell Boston I said hi."

Mac nodded. "This was nice. We should do it more often."

"Boston was right after all."

"Just don't tell her that."

* * *

"Hey babe," Boston said as soon as Mac took a seat beside her in the doctor's office. Smiling, he leaned in for a kiss. "What was that for?" she asked confused.

"That was a thank you." Boston was still confused but decided not press the issue. Shrugging, she returned her gaze to the forms she was currently filling out.

"Mrs. Taylor?" a nurse called from the doorway. After a moment of silence the nurse called again, "Boston Taylor."

Boston looked up at her name. "Oh, yeah. That's me." She looked over to Mac who was smiling at her. "I forgot that's my name now."

The nurse laughed and took the files from Boston's hand, leading her and Mac into a room. "The doctor will be in, in a minute."

Mac took a seat on one of the empty chairs as Boston hoisted herself up onto the table. "Nervous," he asked when he noticed Boston's leg shaking. She nodded her head, but remained silent. "I've been thinking about it, and you're right. We should wait to learn the sex of the baby." Earlier in the morning, Mac and Boston had gotten into an argument about rather to learn the sex of the baby or to wait until birth. Mac had wanted to learn right away so that the preparation would be easier. They would know rather to buy pink or blue things, football or cheerleading outfits. Boston had wanted to wait and be surprised. She had argued that they could just green or yellow things and that a little Red Sox jersey would be perfect for either their son or daughter. "Like you said, couples for thousands of years waited until birth to learn the sex of the baby."

Boston smiled lightly at him, "Are you sure? Because if you really want to know, we can."

"No. I wanna wait. I wanna be surprised."

"You _hate _surprises, Mackie," Boston laughed.

Mac nodded his head seriously. "But I love you and you _love_ surprises."

"Hello, Detective Mr. and Mrs. Taylor," the doctor said walking in.

"Dr. Roberts. It's nice to see you again." Mac stood and shook his hand.

Dr. Roberts sat on his stool and faced Boston, casually flipping through her paperwork. "And how are you, Mrs. Taylor? Anything I should know about?"

"Umm…not really." Boston thought for a second and then shook her head. Everything seemed to be going fine.

"From looking at your blood results and the fact that you've actually lost weight since your last visit, I'm going to suggest that you go on a strict diet of vegetables and no red meat."

Boston shook her head in shock. "No red meat?" The doctor nodded. "I'm from Nebraska. I have to eat red meat. It's my vital life source." Mac let out a laugh, but quickly stopped when Boston glared at him.

"I understand, but you need to gain some weight."

"So, how about I eat _more_ red meat," Boston argued.

"You need to gain weight healthily. Which means to eat more vegetables, more fish and chicken, but also listen to your cravings. If you want to eat cookies and spaghetti sauce, then go right ahead."

"What if I'm craving some beef?" The doctor shook his head. "No red meat?" Boston asked softly, looking like she had just lost her puppy.

Smiling at Mac, Dr. Roberts said just as softly, "No red meat."

"I'll go on the diet with you," Mac said.

Boston looked up at him, "Really?"

Mac nodded, "I helped you get pregnant and now I want to help you through it." Boston smiled.

"Okay, let's take a look at your baby. Do you want to know the sex?" Dr. Roberts asked as he started up the ultrasound machine.

"No," Mac said immediately. "We want to be surprised."

"Okay, this may be cold." Mac smiled at Boston's squeal when Dr. Roberts applied the jelly to her stomach. "Let's take a look." He was silent for several minutes as he moved the ultrasound rod across her belly. Mac tried to figure out what he was staring at, but finally gave up. "Okay. There's your baby." It just looked like a black and white blob to Boston, but she still couldn't stop herself from tearing up. They talked for several more minutes before Dr. Roberts finally wiped her clean. "I'll go print you both of a copy of the ultrasound," he said leaving the room.

"Our baby's beautiful," Mac said softly.

Boston grabbed his hand and pulled him into a hug. "What'd you expect? I am the mother."

Mac laughed and hugged her closer. "I love you for your modesty."

* * *

"Hey! It's the newlyweds!" Danny shouted as soon as he saw Mac and Boston entering the bar.

"Boston!" Lindsey jumped up from her chair and hugged Boston tightly. "How was the honeymoon? Wow, you're tan! Did you guys have fun? Did you even see any of the island or were you in bed all day?"

"Woah! Slow down, Linds." Boston sat in the seat that Mac had pulled out for her and then leaned towards Lindsey. "It was so awesome! We had such a blast. I never knew that Mac could be so fun. Good thing I married him. And guess what?" She pulled out a stack of photos. "I brought pictures!" Pulling out the first one, she handed it to Stella. In the photo, a smiling Mac had his arm thrown around Boston, and they were standing in front of the ocean. "This was right outside our hotel."

"Wow. I don't know what shocks me most: Mac on a beach or Mac in shorts." Stella passed the picture off to Lindsey.

"I think I'm shocked that you guys even made it out to the beach."

"Oh, no. This was the third day there. The first two days we didn't leave our room at all...It was great." She pulled out the next photo. Mac was playing the bass with a reggae band. "Mac totally jammed with these guys for an hour. And they bought him a shot when they found out we were newlyweds. And this one was taken in front of this great old cast iron bridge. It was so much fun." She glanced over at Mac who nodded his head. Now was the time. "But we actually didn't invite you all here to talk about the honeymoon. We have other news."

"You're getting a divorce? Can I have the fondue set I got you guys back?" Flack said seriously.

"No and No." Mac laughed. "We…uh." He glanced over at Boston asking for help.

Grabbing his knee and giving it a gentle squeeze, she continued, "We're having a baby."

The shouts from the table were loud enough to draw attention from the other customers. Lindsey, Stella, and Angell all crowded around Boston as they talked animatedly and over each other. All the guys surrounded Mac and slapped him on the back. Danny, Flack, Hawkes, Adam, and Sid each bought a round of shots and made Boston do shots of ginger ale.

"This is so exciting!" Lindsey said once things had settled down. "When are you due?

"The middle of January," Mac answered slurring a bit. Boston could tell that the alcohol was starting to take its toll on his inhibitions. He was much more touchy feely than usual and he had pulled his chair so close to Boston's that they may as well have been sitting in the same one. She knew she better get him back home soon before he did something that would embarrass him in the morning.

Playing the pregnant card, Boston started to get up. "I'm getting tired. Will you take me home?"

Even a drunken Mac was a protective Mac. Jumping to his feet, he placed a wobbly hand on Boston's back and they said their goodbyes to the group. Twenty minutes later, Mac was unsteadily helping Boston into their bedroom. He flopped down on the bed and started to pull at his shirt. Smiling, Boston stepped between his legs. "Here, let me." She brushed away his hands and started to unbutton his shirt.

He stared at her dreamily. "You're beautiful," he slurred.

She didn't even try to hide her laugh. "Thank you."

"And you're even more beautiful now that you're carrying my son." He reached up to touch her stomach through her t-shirt.

"You son, huh? I could be carrying your daughter."

"No! I'm a scientist. I know my sperm and it's all man down there," he pointed to his lower half.

"Believe me," she said pushing the shirt of his shoulders, "I know its all man."

"Wanna have sex?"

Boston burst out laughing. "So romantic." Once she had calmed down, she pulled back the covers and forced Mac to lie down. "C'mon, Mackie. Go to bed and then maybe in the morning you can show me how manly you are."

"You're so smart," he mumbled and immediately fell asleep


	28. Big Mac

A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews. Here's a fun, little chapter for your viewing pleasure. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Boston.

* * *

"Mac," Boston whispered in Mac's ear. He mumbled something incoherent, but continued to sleep. "Mac," she said again, shaking him a bit. Shifting a little, he pulled her closer but didn't awake. Finally, she pulled out her A-game. "Mackie," she said and then proceeded to lick just behind his earlobe in the place she knew that drove him crazy.

"That wasn't fair," Mac mumbled, squinting up at Boston.

She grinned at him, dipping her head down for a kiss. "I'm hungry. I want a Big Mac," she said giving him her best puppy eyes.

Sighing, Mac shook his head and said groggily, "You can't have burgers."

"It was worth a shot," Boston said sadly. Turning her back to Mac, she laid back down snuggling into her pillow.

Mac felt horrible. They'd been on this diet for two months now and Boston was really struggling with not having any red meat. He always tried to be encouraging, but there was only so much that he could say considering that it was hard on him too. Everyone at the Lab knew that if they caught Mac chowing down on a cheeseburger, they were to look the other way and never, ever mention it to Boston. What happened at the Lab, stayed at the Lab.

Mac moved so that he was leaning over Boston. Softly kissing her shoulder, he pulled a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "How about I go get you some Chicken McNuggets?" Boston was silent, so Mac pressed on, "I know this is hard, baby, but it'll all be worth it when we're holding our healthy little boy or girl." Boston nodded her head and Mac softly kissed her on the lips. "Good. You want some barbeque sauce."

"Yeah," Boston nodded as Mac slid out of bed and pulled on his jeans and a shirt that had been thrown haphazardly next to the TV. "Oh," she said giddily, sitting up in bed, "can you get some fries and ketchup. And a chocolate shake. Oh, and some horseradish sauce." Mac grimaced, but made sure that Boston didn't see it. She had been particularly sensitive about her cravings and would either break down crying or make Mac sleep in the guest bedroom if he made any sort of indication that what she was eating made him want to throw up. Although Mac didn't usually mind when she made him sleep in guestroom because, without fail, she would always sneak in after an hour and tell him how sorry she was. She would then go on to show him how sorry she was.

The love making was the side effect about her pregnancy that had Mac the most confused. At first he had loved her increased desire to have sex. It was exciting and he never knew what was going to set her off. One minute he'd be telling her about the new lab equipment and the next she'd be pushing him down on the kitchen floor and doing things with her tongue that should be illegal. Sometimes she liked to have Mac love her long and slow, surrounded by candlelight while jazz music played softly in the background. A particular favorite of Mac's was the beginning of the month right after Boston received her _Cosmo_ magazine. She'd wait until he had a weekend off and then would torture Mac for two days while they tried out all of the sex tips. They'd laugh about the things that didn't work out so well and practice the tips that did work over and over, perfecting them.

But as time passed, Mac began to stay at the lab longer and longer just to avoid having to have sex with Boston. It wasn't that he didn't want to, because he had never been so turned on in his entire life. It was just that he was tired. He didn't have it in him to make love with her more than once a night. He was old and needed time to rebound. So, he would stay at the lab until he thought it was safe to return home and not become a sex slave. He hated that he wasn't spending as much time with Boston, because he loved seeing her pregnant and experiencing all the changes with her, but he physically couldn't take it anymore. He'd never say anything to her, because she was carrying his child and the least he could do was provide her with the satisfaction that she needed. Plus, he didn't know how she'd react. She could cry, yell, kick him out, or maybe she'd still just want to jump him.

* * *

An hour and a half later, Mac had just settled back into bed and was almost asleep again when he felt Boston shift next him and gently poke him in the side. "Mac?"

"What?" he grumbled, not bothering to open his eyes.

"I wanna a Big Mac."

Sighing, Mac opened his eyes and gave her a disapproving look. "We've been through this. No. Red. Meat. How can you still be hungry?"

Boston raised her eyebrows at him. Giving him a seductive smile, she pressed herself into his side. "I want a different kind of Big Mac," she said as her hand slithered down to his boxers. Groaning, Mac watched as Boston's mouth joined her hand and decided that maybe things weren't so bad after all.

* * *

Mac stumbled into their apartment a few nights later. He had just gotten off a particularly long and gruesome shift and all he wanted to do was sink into bed and sleep for a couple of years. Throwing his jacket onto the couch, he sluggishly made his way into the bedroom.

"Hey, babe," Boston greeted him. "I've been waiting for you."

Mac looked up from where he was securing his weapon, surprised that she was still awake considering it was closing in on two in the morning, and noticed she was only wearing a bra and panties. "Hey," he said, slowly unbuttoning his shirt.

"Let me help ya with that." Boston seductively walked over to him, running her hands over his chest.

"Not tonight," Mac said as she reached to unbuckle his belt.

She pulled away her hands, placing them on her hips. "Excuse me?" she snapped.

"I'm tired," Mac sighed. "Can we just go one night without making love?"

"I'm sorry!" she yelled. "You seemed so happy fucking me when you got me knocked up, but I guess I'm just an inconvenience to you now. Here ya go," she threw his pillow at him. "I hope ya sleep well in the guestroom." She pushed him towards the door.

"Boston, that's not – " He was cut off when the door slammed in his face. "I love you," he called as he made his way back to the spare room. Mac fully expected for Boston to make her way to the guestroom like she did every other time she kicked him out, but he was still alone four hours later when his phone rang. It was Flack informing him of a break in the case and he needed to come back to the Lab as soon as possible.

* * *

Later that evening, Mac walked into their apartment. He had tried calling Boston all day and left her numerous voicemails at home and at her work apologizing. He was worried that he had really messed up this time. Usually she wasn't one to ignore his calls and always accepted his apologies. He loved the fact that she never held grudges and was easy to forgive. Usually.

Pushing open the door, he was startled to see his beautiful wife sitting on the couch, hugging a pair of pants and crying. Her mascara was streaming down her face, but there was something so beautifully tragic about it that Mac felt his breath hitch. "Bos, what's wrong?" he said, rushing to her side and kneeling in front of her. She quickly looked away and wiped her eyes. "C'mon," Mac urged, "talk to me."

"My pants don't fit," she said breaking down again. Mac pulled her close and rubbed soothing circles on her back. Once she had calmed down a bit, she mumbled into his neck. "My pants don't fit. I had to go and get a pair of maternity pants. And I'm hormonal. I know I'm acting irrational and shouldn't get mad at you and my rational side knows that I'm not really fat, I'm pregnant with our beautiful baby. But the irrational side seems to have taken over and keeps telling me that my pants don't fit, I'm fat, and my own husband finds me so disgusting that he doesn't even want to sleep with me."

Mac pulled back and looked at her. Cupping her face in both hands, he stared deep into her eyes. "You are the sexiest, most beautiful person I have ever seen. You're not fat. You're stunning and you're carrying my child. And I love you more and more as each day passes." Mac paused, before saying slowly, "But, I'm old." Boston started to object, but Mac pressed his fingers over her mouth to silence her. "It's true, baby. I'm old and I just don't have the stamina that you have. So, when I told you last night that I didn't want to make love with you, it wasn't that I didn't find you attractive and wasn't turned on. It was that I was tried and knew I couldn't pleasure you the way you deserved." Boston smiled softly and Mac reached out to wipe a few runaway tears. "But I'm always turned on by you and I love you so much."

"Love, too," Boston mumbled, pressing her lips against his.

"Now," Mac said as he pulled away, "how about we go and get you some new maternity clothes."

"You hate shopping," she said quietly.

Smiling lightly, Mac objected. "I think I can manage. We'll also get ya some new bras. I noticed last night that you seemed to be falling out of your old one."

Boston laughed a little, "I thought you were too tired last night."

"I was tired, not blind."


	29. London Revelations

A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews. Please let me know what you all think of this new development. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Boston.

* * *

"Yeah, I think its called nesting," Boston said into the phone as she lifted up a vase to dust under it. "I've cleaned every room in the house…twice."

_"How's Mac taking that?"_ her mom, Nora, asked.

"He barricaded himself in the office and said he wouldn't come out until I had used all the Lysol."

_"When are you going to set up the nursery?"_ Boston had made sure to involve her mom in the planning of the nursery. She'd emailed pictures of the furniture that she and Mac had picked out. She mailed paint samples and had her mom put in her input on which color would be the best for either a boy or a girl. It had been Mac's idea to have a farm theme. He had said that he didn't want his baby, or Boston, to forget that they had roots in Nebraska. Nora had embraced the idea, and secretly loved Mac even more for the suggestion, sending them twenty stuffed farm animals: pigs, cows, horses, ducks, chickens, kittens, sheep.

"He has next weekend off, so he and some of the others from the Lab are going to paint and set everything up...I think he's really excited."

_"Of course he's excited. He's about to become a dad. And he's a newlywed. What could be better than that?"_

Boston shrugged as she put a few CDs back into their cases. "Winning the lottery."

_"Boston!"_ Nora scolded. _"Why do you insist on always being a smartass?"_

Boston looked over at the door as a knock came. "I get it from you. Look Mom, there's someone at the door. I gotta go. Love ya." Putting down the phone, she walked to the door and looked at the peephole. Opening the door she saw a beautiful woman with long, dark hair.

"Hello," the woman said in a British accent. "I think I have the wrong apartment."

"Well, who are you – "

"Peyton?" She heard Mac quietly say from behind her. Boston's eyes widened in shock. This was _the Peyton._ The Peyton that had abandoned her husband and left him with a broken heart. The Peyton that took a piece of Mac's heart with her to England and never gave it back. The Peyton that had made Mac even more hesitant to love and had made Boston's job that much harder.

The three of them stood their awkwardly until Boston gestured for Peyton to come in. "Do you want anything to drink?" Boston asked just to break the silence. Peyton shook her head. "Okay, then," she said looking at Mac, who had a deep frown on his face. "I'm just gonna be in the bedroom." Mac nodded his head slowly, reaching out to briefly touch her hand as she walked passed him.

Mac was silent, rocking back and forth on his heels. Peyton finally broke the silence, "Is that your girlfriend?"

"Wife," Mac said simply. He examined her face for any look of surprise, but only found a sad smile playing on her face.

"She's pregnant." It wasn't a question, but Mac nodded his head anyway.

"Seven months."

"How long have you been married?"

"Three months."

"Congratulations. How long have you known her?"

"Almost two years…Did you come here just to talk about my wife?"

Shaking her head, Peyton took a seat on one side of the couch. "I came to tell you something important. Can you please sit down, Mac?"

"I'll stand." Mac didn't even bother hiding the irritation in his voice. He couldn't understand what would possess Peyton to come to _his_ home without any warning. What could possibly be that important that after more than four years she could possibly justify coming back into his life.

"I don't know how to say this…"

"Just say it."

After taking a deep breath, Peyton looked straight into Mac's eyes. "You have a son."

Mac didn't understand what she was saying. How could he have a son? "I don't understand."

"After you left London, I found out I was pregnant. That's when I decided to stay in England."

Anger was the last emotion that Mac expected to course through his body, but he was finding it hard to control his annoyance at the thought that Peyton had broke up with him knowing that she was pregnant with his baby. "You knew you were pregnant and you still broke up with me? You never told me I had a son?" he asked forcefully.

"It's not like we ever talked about having a baby, Mac. We never talked about the future at all."

"That's no excuse," he barked.

"You're right," she said quietly, looking at her hands. "But I knew that if I told you, you'd ask me to marry you, move to England, and give up your whole life here. And I didn't want that for you."

"That wasn't your decision to make," he said, his voice filled with bitterness.

"I realize that now. That's why I moved back here. So that you could get to know your son."

Mac didn't know what to say. He was entirely overwhelmed and he wished Boston was here. She would be gentling rubbing his back and would know exactly what to say. Turning his back to Peyton, he pinched the bridge of his nose. After several silent minutes, he turned back around and asked the questions that were filling his head. "What's his name? How old is he? What's he look like? What's his favorite color? His favorite book? His favorite ice cream? His favorite...everything?"

Peyton smiled softly at his questions. It had been a hard decision to come back to New York and to tell Mac about his son, but now she knew she'd made the right choice. Mac would be a great father and her son deserved to have his father in his life. "His name is Gabe Ian Taylor." Mac's breathing hitched. "I thought he should have his father's name," Peyton said quietly. "He turns four next month. He looks exactly like you. Brown hair, green eyes, quirky smile. Orange is his favorite color; _Goodbye Moon_ is his favorite book; he loves strawberry ice cream, like you...He likes to dress up as a police officer and flash badge while yelling 'NYPD.'"

Mac laughed at the visualization. "How does he know about the NYPD?"

"I tell him about you all the time."

"Why does he think I'm not around?"

"He knows that you live here and work to put away criminals. He's never really asked for more details than that."

Mac nodded, "When can we meet him."

Peyton smiled sadly. _We._ He and his wife. She had secretly hoped that Mac would welcome her back with open arms and that they could pick up where they left, as a nice, little family. But she had blown that chance when she wrote him that Dear John letter. She was the one who had left him and now he had moved on and was starting his own nice, little family without her. "We're staying at the Hilton on 58th until I can find an apartment. Why don't you both stop by tomorrow at noon. You can meet Gabe and then if he feels comfortable enough, maybe you guys could take him out for lunch, just the three of you."

Mac gave a small smile, "We'd like that."

* * *

After he let Peyton out, Mac made his way back to the bedroom. Chuckling to himself when he saw that Boston was scrubbing the baseboards, he laid down on the bed. "Hey, babe," she greeted him cheerfully, twisting around and she sending him a smile. He loved that she wasn't going to interrogate him about his talk with Peyton. She would let him tell her in his own time. Gently patting the bed beside him, he watched her put down her cleaning products and waddle over.

They were quiet for several moments before Mac said quietly, "I have a son with Peyton."

"When can we meet him?" she whispered.

Shaking his head in disbelief, he pulled her in for a passionate kiss. "How can you be so goddamn perfect? You always know the right thing to say. My first thought was whether it was really my kid, but yours was when we can meet him...Tomorrow at noon."

"Do you want to go alone?" Mac furrowed his brow in confusion. "I mean, do you want to meet him first? Just you and him?"

"No. I want you there...I need you there."

Boston nodded her head in understanding. "What's his name?"

"Gabe. Gabe Ian Taylor. He's almost four, has brown hair and green eyes, and likes to dress like an officer...And I love him."

Boston reached over him to rub his back. "I love him, too."

"Are you okay with this?"

She looked at him confused, "It's not like with Reed where you kept it a secret. I know that you'd have told me if you knew. And that you would have been involved in Gabe's life if you'd had known. Why wouldn't I be okay with it?"

"Well," Mac mumbled, avoiding her eyes, "we're still new at being married and we're about to have our own baby in two months and now all of a sudden we find out I have a four year old son. That's a lot to deal with."

Boston shrugged and poked his nose. "That's not how I see it. I see that I just married my best friend, am only two months away from meeting our beautiful baby, and just found out that we have another amazing little boy. The way I see it, you're making all my dreams come true."

* * *

A/N: This storyline came to me last night in the middle of a flu-coma, so please, please, please, let me know what you think. Love it? Hate it? Let me know.


	30. Father & Son

A/N: Yay, speedy update! Thanks for the reviews. Hope you like. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Boston, her family, and Gabe.

* * *

"Nervous?" Boston asked quietly, reaching for Mac's hand.

He looked at her and gave a small smile, "How can you tell?"

"Well, for starters, your foot is tapping out quite the tune."

Mac looked down at his leg and saw that it was jumping up and down more than usual. "Sorry," he mumbled just as the elevator opened.

Boston tugged on his hand, pulling him out of the elevator and down the hall to room 508. Standing outside, she gave Mac one last look. "He's gonna love you."

"I sure hope so."

"Ready?" Taking a deep breath, Mac pushed all the negative thoughts out of his head and focused on the warm feeling of Boston's hand. He gave a slight nod and Boston took that as her cue to gently knock on the door. Peyton quickly answered the door and the three stood in uncomfortable silence. "Hi. I'm Boston. It's nice seeing you again," Boston finally said, sticking out her hand.

Peyton gave her a smile and shook her hand. "Please come in." They walked into the small hotel room. Several suitcases and a few small toys were scattered around the room. Boston immediately spotted a small boy sitting at a table coloring. "And this," Peyton said walking over to the boy and placing her hands on his shoulders, "is Gabe."

Turning in his seat, Gabe sent Boston and Mac a beaming smile. Boston smiled back, her heart skipping a beat at just how much he looked like Mac. The same dark hair, cut short; the same eyes sparkling with humor; the same wide, goofy grin. "Hello," he said with a slight British accent.

Boston felt Mac's hand tighten around her own. "Hi," Mac finally said. "I'm Mac."

"Mac is your dad. Remember we talked about this last night?" Peyton leaned over Gabe's shoulder to look him in his eyes.

Gabe nodded and then looked back at Mac. "Do I have to call you Dad?"

Smiling softly, Mac shook his head. "Only if you want to. Or you can just call me Mac."

"Okay, Mac." Turning his attention to Boston, Gabe examined her for a second, in a very Mac-like fashion. "Who are you?"

"I'm Boston," she said with a smile.

"Boston is Mac's wife," Peyton said.

"You have a funny name," Gabe said bluntly.

"I know. But, I really like your name," Boston said confidently.

"Really?" Boston nodded her head. "You're very round."

"Gabe," Peyton scolded. "Boston's pregnant. She and Mac are having a baby." Boston thought she heard a hint of bitterness, but she chose to ignore it. She wasn't the type to get jealous.

"Will I be related to the baby?" Gabe asked seriously.

Letting go of Boston's hand, Mac approached his son and kneeled in front of him. "Yeah. You'll be his or her big brother. It'll be your job to protect your little brother or sister. Make sure that they stay out of trouble and give them advice. Just be there for them."

Gabe contemplated this several moments before he finally said, "I'll be the best big brother ever." Mac grinned and looked back over his shoulder at Boston. The two shared a smile and loving look, before they returned their attention to Gabe. "Wanna see what I'm drawing."

* * *

Boston and Mac spent the rest of the afternoon with Gabe; coloring with him, talking with him, playing with him, and generally just getting to know him. They found out that he loved _Finding Nemo_ and that Batman was his favorite superhero. He and Boston had talked about soccer and they had made a date to play one-on-one as soon as the baby was born and it was warm enough outside. Mac had shown Gabe his badge and grinned while the boy examined it for several minutes in awe. They had taken him out to lunch and Boston drooled slightly as she watched him eat his hamburger.

After they had returned him to hotel, Mac, Boston, and Peyton had sat and agreed on a plan. They would plan day visits for the next few months until Gabe was comfortable enough to stay the night at Boston and Mac's place. Then they would get him every Wednesday and Friday and every other weekend. They would alternate holidays, but Mac would get him this Thanksgiving and Christmas. They had all agreed to get lawyers to make this deal legal and to insure Mac's rights. The meeting had been civil and Peyton had easily agreed to all of Mac's requests including his demand to pay child support, both parties realizing that Gabe was the most important person in this deal and that making him comfortable in his new surroundings was imperative.

Mac was now guiding Boston back into their bedroom. He had remained silent the entire ride home and Boston knew him well enough to leave him be. He'd talk to her in his own due time. Leaning against the doorway, she watched as he pulled off his shirt. She could read the anger on his face and knew that he was getting worked up. "I hate her," Mac finally said coldly.

"Mac," Boston said quietly.

Then he snapped. Whirling around to face her, she could practically see the steam rolling off him. "How could she do that?" he yelled. "How could she keep my own son away from me? She had no right. Do you know how much stuff I've missed? His birth, his first words, his first steps, his first Christmas, his first birthday. I will never get to experience that stuff with him. I love him and she kept him away!" Turning his back to her, he roared, "How could she do that?"

Boston let out a startled yelp and took a few steps back when Mac curled his fist and punched the wall in front of him. Boston could see blood dripping from his hand when he pulled it from the hole. He kept his back to her, but she could see that his shoulders were quivering slightly. "Mac," she breathed. Slowly approaching him, she hesitantly placed a gentle hand on his bare back. He turned around quickly and pulled her into a hug, gripping her t-shirt tightly. Burying his head into her neck and feeling her round stomach press into his chest, he let himself go as. She could feel his hot tears on her neck and tried to soothe him by rubbing gentle circles into his back. Once she felt him calm down and loosen his hold on her shirt, she whispered in his ear, "What matters is that you're here now. There's plenty more firsts to come; his first day of school, his first love, his first heartbreak, his first car, his first Christmas and birthday with his dad. You have the rest of your life to make up for lost time." She felt him nod into her shoulder. "I love you, Mac and I know how much you love Gabe. I'll be here by your side every step of the way and we'll figure this out."

"I love you so much," he mumbled into her skin.

"Do you ever think what might have been?" Boston asked quietly.

"What might have been?"

"You know, if Peyton would have told you?"

Mac pulled away from, gripping her arms and looking her straight in the eyes. "Have you been thinking about it?"

Boston shrugged and let her eyes drop. "I know you, Mac. You would have moved to England, probably proposed, and made a life with her and Gabe."

"I'm sorry," Mac whispered, gently guiding her chin up so that she was looking into his eyes again. "I never thought how all this must have made you feel. But Boston, you need to understand that any life without you isn't much of a life." Mac wiped the tears from her cheeks. "I know I don't tell you that enough, but promise me you won't ever question your position in my life."

Boston smiled a little, "I can't promise you that."

Mac nodded slowly. "Sometimes I forget that you have feelings, too." Boston laughed, but Mac remained serious. "You're always there to say the perfect thing, so I sometimes forget that you actually may be feeling uncertain and need comforting, too. I can't promise you that I won't forget ever that again, but will you at least promise me that you'll tell me when you need comforting?

"I _can_ promise you that."

"Good." Mac leaned down for a kiss.

* * *

"Boston," Peyton open the door to her hotel room with a shocked look on her face. It was nearing nine in the evening and after Mac had gotten called into the Lab, Boston had decided to go clear up some things with Peyton. Stepping out into the hall, Peyton closed the door behind her. "Gabe's asleep."

"I'll make this quick. Did you come back to New York in the hopes that you and Mac would get back together?"

Peyton was taken aback at Boston's bluntness. "I...well..."

"I just need to know where we stand."

Peyton was unsure what to say. Finally she agreed to tell the truth, "It had crossed my mind, yes."

Boston nodded her head and bit her lip. Taking a deep breath, she put her shoulders back and stood up a tab bit straighter. "Well then, I think we need to get a few things straight." Taking a step closer to Peyton, Boston continued, "Mac is _my_ husband. You had your chance with him and you ruined it. He's moved on and you may not like it, but you need to accept it. Because if you try and come between us, I will go bitch on your ass."

"You have no right to talk to me like that," Peyton said dumbfounded.

"Maybe not, but you broke Mac's heart and that makes me hate you. You didn't tell him he had son! Do you know what that did to him? Do how terrible he feels for missing out on the first four years of Gabe's life?" Boston didn't wait for an answer before she snarled, "No, you don't know because you didn't think about Mac at all. You only thought about yourself when you decided to move to London and not tell Mac about his son." Boston took a deep breath and calmed herself down before continuing, "Now, we'll be civil to you for Gabe's sake. But I hope you realize that besides the fact that you're Gabe's mother, you mean nothing to us. Are we clear?"

"Crystal," Peyton said softly.

"Okay then." Boston put on a smile. "We'll see you on Sunday."

* * *

"Taylor," Mac answered the house phone early the next morning.

_"Hey, Mackie Boy!"_ He recognized Ski, one of Boston's brothers, loud voice. _"How ya doin' Lover Boy?"_ Boston's brothers were the only people on earth who could get away with calling Mac any form of Boy. Mac would never, ever admit it to anyone, not even Boston, but her brothers intimated the hell out of him. Logically, he knew he could take them. He wasn't _that_ old, was a Marine, and as Boston liked to point out often, he was still in good shape. But it was their unconditional and undeniable love for her that scared him. Mac knew that he ever actually did do anything to really hurt Boston, her brothers _would_ hunt him down and kill him. And if Mac was honest with himself, he would admit that this thought was always in the back of his mind whenever he yelled at Boston or made her cry or disappointed her.

"I'm doing good. Boston's still asleep, so..."

_"We're not calling to talk to B. We actually wanted to talk to you."_

Mac sighed, "We?"

_"Yeah. The rest of the boys are here. I'm putting you on speaker."_

"No! Don't put me on speaker," Mac objected. He hated being on speaker phone.

Apparently his objections were useless because a chorus of "Hey, Mackie" could be heard.

_"B. told us about your son," _Ted said, cutting to the chase. Mac should have known that Boston would have told her family. He had learned early on that there were no secrets in the Waters family. If you told one Waters, you told them all. Mac knew that Boston felt guilty about living so far away from her family. Sometimes when she was feeling especially sentimental, she would speak of the regret that she felt missing so many baseball games, family dinners, birthday parties, and holidays. He often found himself feeling jealous of the bond that Boston had with her siblings. He only hoped that their own kids would have a similar bond.

_"We're not mad, Mackie," _Fen said. _"She told us that the woman never told you."_

"So, you're not going to beat me up?"

Zach's deep voice boomed over the line, _"Not unless you give us a reason. How ya holdin' up, man."_

"I'm...fine," Mac lied.

_"Well, hopefully you're talking to B. Don't shut her out."_

"_Enough serious talk, what's our nephew like?"_

Mac smiled. Sometimes late at night, he'd lie in bed and wonder how Boston could be so impossibly nice. And now he realized where she got it from. Her family consisted of the most unassuming people Mac had ever met and he loved them all for it. Walking out to the patio, Mac sat in the chilly air and watched the sun rise over Central Park and the city he loved as he told them all about Gabe.

* * *

Mac didn't know how much time had elapsed before he heard the screen door open. Looking over his shoulder he didn't even try to hide his smile. Boston was wearing an old USMC hoodie of his, a pair of maternity sweats, and her awful Red Sox slippers that drove Mac crazy. "Hey babe." Handing him a blanket, she said, "I thought you may be cold."

"Thanks," he mumbled, leaning over for a kiss. "Cute hair." He gently pulled her messy ponytail. Boston ignored him, instead handing him a coffee cup and taking her place on the chair next to him. Propping her feet on the guardrail, she took a sip of her own beverage and set the cup on her bulging belly. Mac swished around the contents in his cup, eyeing it suspiciously. "Did you make this coffee?"

"Calm down," Boston laughed. "It's just hot chocolate. Wanna a cracker?" She held out the box to him. Shaking his head, Mac watched in repulsion as she pulled out a jar of chocolate sauce and squeezed a plentiful amount onto a cracker. He scooted his chair closer to Boston and laid an arm across her shoulders.

After several minutes of silence, Mac asked quietly, "What are we gonna do, Bos?" Zach's words about talking to Boston were swirling around in his head.

She reached over and grabbed his hand. "What'd ya mean?"

"What are we gonna do?" he repeated. "How are we going to afford it? The apartment is too small for us and two kids. What if it turns out he doesn't like me? What if he resents me later on? How are we gonna raise two kids and deal with Peyton?"

"Well, we'll raise them the best we can. We'll be there for both of them and try to pass our great wisdom off to them. We'll just love them and hope that they know they can come to us with anything."

"It sounds so easy when you say it," Mac said, staring at the skyline.

"I'm not saying it's gonna be easy. It's gonna be hard. Really, really hard. We'll be frustrated at times; they're gonna disappoint us and they'll probably even hate us sometimes. But at the end of the day, I know that I love Gabe and this little one," she said running her hand over her belly. "And that's more than enough for me."

"I love them both, too." Mac spoke so softly that Boston wasn't even sure he had spoken.

"Gabe may resent you later on; I can't promise that he won't. You'll just have to show him that you're here now and doing the best you can. But I do know for a fact, that he likes you. Did you see his face whenever he looked at you? He was so in awe of you, Mac. When you showed him your badge I thought his eyes were gonna explode in happiness. Or when you took his hand when we were walking down the street, he had the proudest look on his face. He is so proud of his daddy. And he already loves you."

"How about the way he looked at you when you mentioned playing soccer? I thought he was gonna break his leg when he showed you how he could run and kick the ball at the same time."

Taking another drink of her hot chocolate, Boston gave Mac's hand a quick squeeze. "Financially, it's gonna be tough."

"I think that's an understatement," Mac scoffed. "How are we going to afford all of our monthly expenses, plus Reed's rent, raising two kids, doctor bills, and child support all on my income?"

"Well, I know we've talked about me not going back to work after the baby's born, but – "

"No!" Mac interrupted her. "You've been looking forward to staying at home with the baby. We'll make it work."

"Don't do that Mac," Boston sighed. "Don't shut me out like that. You can't just make all the decisions in our relationship." Pausing for a beat, she continued, "Now, I know I've been excited, but I also know myself and I know I'm gonna go stir crazy if all I do is stay home with the baby. The truth is, Mac, I don't wanna just be a stay at home mom. I've worked really hard to establish myself in the history field and I don't wanna give that up. Why can't I be a wife, a mom, and have a career?"

"You can be all those things."

"But?"

Mac smiled a little at how well his wife knew him, "But, you seemed so happy about the thought of staying at home. I'm not sure that you would really be happy returning to a job where you'd have to work from 8-5."

"You're right."

Mac wasn't sure had heard her correctly. Had she really just admitted that he was right? "But?"

"But, I could always do something with a more flexible schedule."

"Like what?"

"Well," Boston started, "I could go back part-time or be a consultant for other museums. I could teach college. There are plenty of things I could do that'd allow for me to work and still spend most of the day with the baby."

"If it's something you really wanna do, then I think you should go for it," Mac said pulling her close and kissing her temple. "I'll support you in anything."

Snuggling into his shoulder, Boston nodded her head, "I know and I love you that much more for it. And I agree with you that this place is too small. We should look for something else. Something we can own and that's bigger with at least three bedrooms, preferably four or even five."

Mac noticed the way that she looked back over her shoulder to glance into the apartment. "Are you gonna miss it?" Mac asked rubbing her shoulder

Boston shrugged, "I guess. It was my first apartment in New York. The place where I lived during our relationship and our first home. It's kinda sad to be leaving."

"Well," Mac said, taking her coffee cup and setting it on the ground beside his chair, "we're not leaving yet." Standing up, he grabbed her hand and helped her up, "Let's go make some more memories." Gently pushing her back into the apartment, he quickly grabbed the chocolate sauce before closing the screen door.


	31. Lie In The Sound

A/N: Thanks for the reviews. This is short and a little different, but I hope you like. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Boston and Gabe.

* * *

"Hey...It's been a long time. I'm sorry. I know I should come by more often, but…it's so hard, Claire. I miss you so much. And I think about you all the time. Last week, I heard that song on the radio; you know the one that you played over and over the first summer we lived here in New York and you made me learn how to play it and made me sing it for you every night. After the song ended, I wished they'd play it again; just so I could keep thinking about you.

"I saw Lisa the other day. Was that her name? Your annoying secretary that wouldn't quit calling me Mick? I saw her over at that coffee shop on 108th. The one with those pink cupcakes I used to get you whenever we fought. Anyway, she's pregnant and is working at some bank in Midtown...She cried about you and I had to comfort her. But you know what Claire? All I could think about was how _she _survived but you didn't. If she hadn't been running late that day, she'd be dead, too. And for a second all I could feel was anger, but then I thought about you and knew you'd be so upset with me if you knew what I'd been thinking. It's funny how even though you've been gone for so many years, you're not really gone. You're always in the back of my mind, telling me when I'm being stupid or arrogant or spiteful.

"Boston's like that, too. She's always right by side ready to tell me when I'm being a jackass...We got married. Back in August. It was a quiet, small ceremony at Manhattan Beach. We had burgers and fries for dinner and I even danced to this awful rap song that she likes. It was the exact opposite of our big, church wedding. Remember when my Dad and Fritz, Smalls, and the rest of my Marine buddies almost came to blows over who was better, Sailors or Marines. I don't think I'd ever seen you look so pissed. God, Claire, you were so mad that they were going to ruin your dream wedding. And then you elbowed me in the rib when I wouldn't stop laughing. That was one of the funniest things I've ever seen.

"...We see Reed all time. He usually comes over once a week for dinner. He loves tacos...like you...Sometimes it's really hard, Claire. To see him. He reminds me so much of you. He's stubborn and funny and smart. He's exactly like you...He's working at the Times now. Writing for the crime beat. We butt heads all the time, but he's gotten better at not using me to get a scoop. I'm so proud of him. Boston cuts out all of his pieces and keeps them in this little scrapbook that she made.

"Peyton came back to New York...It turns out I have a son. His name's Gabe and he has these amazing green eyes. They get dark and cloudy whenever he's angry or frustrated. And they get bright and almost twinkly whenever he's happy. Boston says there like mine, but I don't see it. He loves grape juice and he does this funny thing when he's concentrating. He bites his lip and squints his eyes, focusing his full attention on the task at hand. He has the cutest British accent, but he's starting to pick up a New York one. It's the funniest thing to hear...It's so amazing how I've only known about the kid for a little more than a month and I already love him in the most incredible way. I would die for him...I would kill for him...Boston's been great through the whole thing. Always knowing the right the thing to say, or when not to say anything and just give me my space.

"...She's pregnant. We're having a baby, Claire. I don't think I've ever been as happy as I was the moment she told me. If it's a boy, we're going him Will. After Dad. It's funny when ya think about it: me naming my son after Dad. If he were still alive he'd slap the back of my head and tell me how unfair it is naming my kid after him because there's no way that the boy could live up to all that is Will Taylor. But we both know that at the end of the night, he'd give me one of his infamous bear hugs and kiss my hair the way that he always did...If it's a girl, Boston wants to name her Claire. I don't understand her sometimes...I just don't understand why. Why does it matter so much that we name her after you?...The truth is, I don't think I can handle it. Naming my daughter after you. Because sometimes when I think about you, I can barely breathe. I get overwhelmed with grief. I miss you so much, Claire, and I don't think I can handle having to remember you every time I call for my baby. I don't think I'm strong enough...But I also don't think I'm strong enough to say no to Boston.

"She asked me the other day why we never had kids. I didn't know what to say to her. Why didn't we ever try and have kids? You would have made a fantastic mother. It was probably because I was working so much...I'm sorry, Claire. I'm so sorry. I worked too much. I should have taken more days off and spent more time with you. I should have taken you skiing in Vermont like you talked about. I should have held you longer in the morning and made love to you more at night...I promised myself the day I married Boston that I wasn't going to make the same mistakes with her. I was going to tell her everyday how my world revolves around her. I was going to kiss her goodbye properly every time I left the room and would make love to her every chance I got.

"...But I've been faltering lately. It's funny, but ever since she told my about the baby, I've been throwing myself even more into work. It's like...I have to protect them; her and the baby and Gabe. And the only way that I know how to protect them is by working and catching criminals. The more criminals that I put behind bars means the less that are out there to hurt my family. So, I just keep working.

"I love you, Claire. I know you're always by my side. Sometimes I swear I can still feel you. I will love you for the rest of my life...and then some." Mac looked up towards the sky one last time before he let go of the chain fence and turned his back towards Ground Zero.


	32. A Day of Thanks

A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews. Enjoy and happy holidays!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Boston.

* * *

"Are you sure you don't wanna come?" Mac asked for the hundredth time.

"Babe, we already talked about this," Boston said as she continued peeling some potatoes. "It's important for you and Gabe to bond. Man to man."

Mac walked into the kitchen and admired his wife for a second before he approached her pressing his chest to her back and wrapping his arms around her belly. Nuzzling his head into the crook of her neck, Mac murmured, "You're beautiful."

He smiled, feeling Boston's belly shake with her laughter. "While I appreciate how romantic you're being, flattery will get you nowhere."

"I'm nervous," Mac admitted softly. It was Thanksgiving Day and it also happened to be the day before Gabe's birthday. Mac was getting ready to leave and go pick Gabe up and it would be the first time that he would be spending any time alone with Gabe and to say that he was nervous would be the understatement of the year.

"Mac," Boston said turning in his arms and wrapping her arms around his neck. "Where's the confident, slightly arrogant man that I know and love?"

This was not what he wanted to hear. He wanted her to rub his back, whisper understanding words in his ear, give him a loving kiss, and agree to come with him to pick up Gabe. Instead she was insulting him. He should have known she wouldn't understand. She was such a natural with kids so she wouldn't understand his fears. Jerking away from her, he stalked back into the bathroom ignoring Boston's calls.

Mac had just finished brushing his teeth when Boston came waddling in. Slowly sitting down on the edge of the bathtub, she reached out and let her hand graze Mac's ass. "I didn't mean it in a bad way."

Pulling away from her touch, he walked over to the towel rack and dried his hands. "You called me arrogant, Bos. How else am I supposed to take that?"

"I meant that you're usually so confident in yourself."

"Yeah, with criminals and science. Not with the son I just found out I had," Mac snapped, throwing the hand towel harder than necessary into the hamper.

"C'mere, babe." Mac cocked his eyebrow in question. "I can't get up, so will you please just come over here?" Sighing, Mac walked over to her and kneeled in between her legs, resting his hands on her thighs. Boston gently ran both her hands through his hair and rested her hands on the back of his neck. "You're great with kids, Mackie. Don't laugh. Seriously, you are. You're always great with my nieces and nephews and you should see yourself with Craig. You are so cute when you're holding him or playing blocks with him."

"Cute?"

"Yeah, cute. Got a problem with that?" Mac shook his head. "That's what I thought."

"Craig's a baby. And I'm his dad's boss. He has to like me." Mac smiled as Boston broke out into laughter. Turning serious, Mac asked, "What am I gonna talk to him about, Bos?"

Shrugging, Boston moved her hands down his back and started to rub mindless symbols into Mac's shirt. "Whatever he wants to talk about. Soccer, Batman, his birthday. You could explain Thanksgiving to him; it is his first after all."

Nodding, he bent his head down and kissed her belly. "I wish you were coming," he mumbled into her shirt.

Boston smiled lightly and touched his cheek softly. "I know, but I'll be here when ya guys get back. I can't be with you twenty-four hours a day, Mac. You're going to need to become comfortable being alone with Gabe and the baby."

"You're right."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"You're funny."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"You're modest."

"Okay, now you're lying," Boston laughed and playfully swatted his shoulder.

* * *

"Let's take off your hat and jacket," Boston heard Mac say in a gentle voice an hour later. There was some rustling coming from the entry way before she heard tiny feet walk into the leaving room followed by a more confident set of feet. "Want the grand tour?" Boston heard a giggle before Mac started to talk again. "This is the living room. If you wanna watch something, just ask me or Boston and we'll set it up for you. We got all kinds of movies that you'll like." Boston smiled at that part. The day after she and Mac had first met Gabe, Mac had rushed out early in the morning and returned three hours later carrying several bags full of every Disney movie ever made and at least thirty children's books, some about soccer and Batman and even a couple about America. He had also bought several toys: dinosaurs, Batman action figures, cars, stuffed animals, and a set of plastic soldiers. "This is the baby's room." She heard a door being pushed open and then a gasp coming from Gabe. Mac had finished the nursery two weekends ago and now it was fully stocked and waiting for the baby's arrival. With the help of Adam, Don, Danny, and Sheldon, a crib, changing table, rocker, dresser, and bookcase had been put together with relatively few curses and shouts of anger. The walls had been painted a pale green and one wall consisted of a farm scene that one of Mac's band members had painted by hand. Stuffed animals, books, and educational toys were all in their places waiting to be played with. Mac had been insistent that only educational toys should be given to the baby. He wanted to be sure that nothing harmful came into contact with his children. "Here's the bathroom. We'll get ya some shampoo and stuff like that tomorrow. Kay?" Boston heard them walk down the hall further and Mac tap on a door. "This is me and Bos's room. You can come in here, day or night if ya need anything, just knock beforehand. And this is your room." Boston made her way down the hall and into Gabe's room. It had been their guest room, so it was decorated in a very neutral scheme with lots of browns and tans. The queen sized bed still remained as well as the giant armoire. It was not kid friendly at all, and Boston knew that Gabe must be feeling very left out. The baby got this amazing room and he was stuck in a giant, brown room. Sure enough, she saw his defeated look as he looked around the room from his place on the bed.

"Hey, Gabe," she greeted him with a hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Hi, Boston."

"Sorry about this room." She said walking over to Mac and wrapping a hand around his waist.  
"We're gonna take you out tomorrow so that you can pick out some stuff you like. A bed, dresser, book case. Whatever you want. We'll also get some paint and you can decorate it however you want."

His eyes got big and a grin quickly spread on his face. "Really?"

"Sure," Boston laughed. "This is your room now, so it should be whatever you want." Gabe looked around the room again with new eyes and Boston knew that he was planning out what to do with his new room. "Are you excited about staying here tonight?" This would be the first night that he would be sleeping at their place and Boston could only imagine how nervous he must be feeling being away from his mom, especially it being his birthday tomorrow. Gabe nodded his head, but looked down at his hands. "Well, I have sugar cookies that need to be iced. Wanna help?"

Gabe's head shot up and he eagerly nodded his head, "Yeah!"

"Okay." Boston jerked her head towards the kitchen, "C'mon."

Gabe jumped off the bed and ran to take Boston's hand, letting her lead him out of the room. Turning back around, he shot Mac a smile. "Coming, Mac?"

Mac and Boston exchanged a smile, before he nodded and reached to grab Gabe's other hand. "How about I be the official cookie tester?" Mac's silliness was reward from a hearty giggle from Gabe and a gentle kiss from Boston.

* * *

Mac noticed Gabe trying to hide a yawn. It had been a long day full of food and laughter. Gabe had asked question after question about Thanksgiving and why it was celebrated. Boston had wanted to tell him the historically accurate version of the holiday, but Mac had finally managed to convince her that a four year old didn't really need to know the full story. So Boston had gritted her teeth and kept her mouth shut as Mac answered his questions with simplistic answers that glossed over the real truth. "Okay." Mac clapped his hands as he stood up. "Are ya ready for bed?"

Gabe shook his head enthusiastically, "No, I'm fine."

Mac looked at Boston, silently asking her to take over but she just sent him a smile and encouraged him with her eyes. "C'mon, Gabe. You need your rest. It's your big day tomorrow and you'll want to be well rested."

Gabe flung his body back into the couch. Pushing his hands into his face, Gabe whined, "But, I'm not tired."

"Gabe," Mac said firmly.

"I'm not tired." Tears were leaking out of Gabe's eyes and Mac knew that his son was close to breaking down. He looked desperately at Boston, pleading for help. But she remained where she was, leaning against the far wall.

Taking a calming breath, Mac kneeled down in front of Gabe and placed a comforting hand on the boy's stomach. "Are you nervous about sleeping here?" Mac asked gently. Gabe avoided Mac's eyes, but shook his head ever s slightly. "Because if you were nervous, that'd be okay. I know I always get a little scared whenever I sleep some place new."

Gabe turned his head and looked at Mac with wide eyes. "You get scared?"

A feeling of love washed over Mac as he saw awe and wonder dance in his son's eyes. "Sure. I get scared all the time." Pausing a moment, Mac finally continued, "Me and Boston will be right here the whole night. And if ya don't feel comfortable staying here, that's okay too. We can take ya back to your mom. There's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"No," Gabe shook his head. "I wanna stay here."

"But you'll tell us if ya do wanna go home?"

"Okay."

Nodding his head, Mac softly patted Gabe's stomach, "Now, are ya ready for bed?"

Gabe thought about and for a second and Mac was sure that he was going to through a fit again. But Gabe surprised him. "Will you read me a book?" he asked hesitantly.

"Sure." Mac smiled broadly.

Gabe held out his arms and Mac took that as an invitation to pick the boy up. Mac felt his chest tighten when Gabe wrapped his little arms about Mac's neck and wrapped his feet around his chest. Resting his head in Mac's neck, Gabe let himself relax into his father's touch. They were almost out of the living room when Gabe looked up and reached a hand out towards Boston, who was still leaning against the wall. "Are you coming Boston?"

With a wide grin, she pushed herself off. "Yeah, I'm coming."

* * *

"Thanks, Bos," Mac said, leaning against the doorway leading into the kitchen.

Boston looked up from where she was putting four candles into a soccer ball shaped cake and sent Mac a smile. "It was actually kinda fun making it."

"I didn't mean the cake." Mac took a few steps forward and gently touched her cheek. "I meant, thanks for...everything. Thanks for being there for me during this whole thing. I couldn't have done it without you."

"There's no place else I'd rather be," Boston said softly and reached up to kiss Mac. "Okay," she said, licking her lips, as they pulled apart. Looking at the clock she noticed that it was two minutes until midnight. "It's time. Let's go."

Mac nodded, but pulled her in for another kiss. Grabbing the cake, he followed her as they made their way to Gabe's room. Gently pushing the door open, Boston tried to be as quiet as possible as she made her way to one side of the bed. Gabe was curled up in the middle of the huge bed and only his head was sticking out from under the comfortable. Boston carefully sat down beside him and whispered in his ear, "Gabe."

Stirring, Gabe squinted up at Boston. Mac quickly lit the candles and held the cake closer to Gabe. "Happy birthday."

Gabe's eyes got wide and a huge grin broke out on his face. "It's a soccer ball. That's amazing!"

"Make a wish," Mac smiled. Gabe closed his eyes tight and thought for a moment. Finally he took a deep breath and blew out a huge breath, blowing all the candles out. Boston turned on the light and cut three large pieces as Mac and Gabe watched.

"Do you guys do this every year?" Gabe asked, his mouth full of cake.

Boston sent Mac a small smile and waited for him to tell the story. "Well," Mac started slowly. "My parents used to do this every year for me. They'd sneak into my room right at midnight and wish me a happy birthday with a cake. It was our family tradition and Boston decided to continue it."

"Are the cakes always shaped like a ball?"

Mac laughed at his son's face. It looked like more frosting had ended up on his face than in his mouth. "No, it's shaped like whatever the person likes. Mine was always a soldier. I make Boston's into the Red Sox logo."

"It's really good cake," he mumbled, shoving another bite into his already full mouth.

"Why, thank you. I'm glad you like it. Here," Boston handed him a napkin. "Wipe your face."

Mac reached over and cleaned off a spot Gabe had missed. "Do you feel older?"

Gabe giggled and shook his head. "No. Do I look older?"

Mac studied him, moving Gabe's face from side to side. "I don't know," he said with a concentrated face. "What do you think, Bos?"

"Hmm...I do think I see some stubble coming in. Before you know it, Gabe, you're going to have a full blown beard." Gabe looked shocked and started to touch his face, searching for any sign of whiskers. "Don't worry, it'll make you look distinguished."

"I don't know what that means, but I'm not sure I want to be dish-ing-wished"

"Distinguished," Mac corrected him. "I think you have a couple years before you have to start worrying about shaving. You're safe for now, Gabe."

* * *

An hour later, Boston was curled up in her own bed watching Mac change into a pair of sweats. He had been unusually quiet ever since they left Gabe's room after reassuring the boy that his presents could be opened bright and early in the morning. But now as she watched Mac slide into bed beside her, she couldn't quite put her finger on the reason for his silence. Mac scooted closer so that their faces were only inches apart and lightly traced Boston's face letting his fingers trail over her nose and eyes and outline her lips. Lost in his own thoughts it was several minutes before Mac stopped and cupped her cheek. "I never thought this would happen to me," he said quietly. "After Claire died, I gave up all hope of having a family. And then you came waltzing into my life and gave me everything I thought I could never have. I…Thank you. I wouldn't have survived this whole Gabe thing without you."

"You woulda found a way, Mac."

Mac shook his head, "But I wouldn't be half the dad that I am when you're by my side."

"Love you," Boston whispered as she leaned forward to kiss him.

"Love ya, too." Mac gave her one quick kiss and then wrapped his arm around her waist. "I've been thinking and maybe...uh...maybe we could get Gabe a dog for Christmas."

Boston raised her eyebrow, "A dog?"

"Yeah," Mac nodded. "Every boy needs a dog."

"Where is this coming from?"

Mac was silent for a moment and avoided Boston's eyes before he finally sighed. "I always wanted a dog when I was a kid. It was all I ever dreamed about and every Christmas I asked Santa for one."

"Why didn't you ever get one?" Boston asked gently.

"My dad was allergic and Claire was afraid of them."

"So, is this a dog for you or for Gabe," she teased.

Mac laughed, "For Gabe, of course."

"You do know that we'll be the ones taking care of it when Gabe's not here. We'll have to feed it, walk it, play with it."

"I know."

"And we'll have a newborn."

"I know."

Boston sighed, "We could take him to the pound and let him pick one out."

Mac face broke out into a grin, "Is that a yes?"

"What can I say, I'm a sucker for doggies."

"Just for dogs?" Mac asked with a smirk.

Boston rolled her eyes and playfully punched him in the chest, "And you, I guess."

* * *


	33. The Other Claire

A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews. Sorry for the long wait and the shortness of this chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Boston.

* * *

Four hours. That was how long it took to change Mac Taylor's life forever. Four hours. Four hours ago he'd only one child. Four hours ago his wife had been pregnant. Four hours ago he had been at a bodega in Queens trying to collect fingerprints off a cash register when Boston had called informing him that her water had broke. And now here he was, four hours later, holding _his_ daughter. His beautiful miracle of a daughter.

Fear had gripped Mac's heart when Boston had called. It was a few days before Christmas and she wasn't due for another month. He didn't believe it at first and kept asking if she was sure that her water had broken. _Well, it's either that or I peed my pants,_ Boston had snapped into the phone._ And I like to thank that after twenty-nine years I've pretty much mastered the whole not pissing my pants thing. So yes, Mac, I'm pretty goddamn sure._ Needless to say, Mac had rushed out of the scene with a quick _Boston's in labor_ directed to nobody in particular barley resisting the urge to flip on the lights and sirens as he sped towards the hospital. Different scenarios flashed through his mind as he wove in and out of traffic. What if something was wrong with the baby? What if something happened to Boston? What if he didn't arrive in time? He had skidded to a stop outside Boston's room just minutes before the baby had come.

Mac liked to think that he was a pretty tough guy. He had been shot, been in bombings, and broken several bones. And through it all he had stood up to the pain like a man. But as Boston squeezed his hand _hard_ and shouted how much of a fucker he was and that he was never going to touch her again, he was sure that a grimace was on his face. But then he had heard the baby's first cry and knew that he'd suffer through the pain a million more times if it meant that his baby was alive. Since she was 4 weeks premature, a whole of team of doctors had quickly carted her off to make sure that she was healthy. Another team had dissented on Boston to make sure she was okay and Mac was left standing in the corner not being able to help either one of his girls.

Two hours later the baby was deemed healthy and returned to her proud parents. She was the most beautiful thing that Mac had ever seen. With the lightest skin and a full head of dark brown hair, he couldn't believe that he had had any part in creating this perfect person. While she sat in her mother's arms, Mac had lightly traced a finger down her tiny cheek and marveled at how soft her skin was. Then he took a moment to admire the woman who had given him this gift. Boston hadn't stopped smiling since the nurse had gently laid their daughter in her arms. There was a certain glow about her and Mac found her undeniably attractive. Her hair was messed up and she was sweaty, but she had never looked more beautiful to Mac. He also realized that she had grown up in the two years that he had known her. She was still spunky and free spirited, but she had also become womanly and sophisticated. And as she grew into the woman before him, Mac had only fallen more madly in love with her.

"She's beautiful." Boston's gentle voiced coaxed Mac out of his thoughts. She pressed her chest against his back and reached around his shoulder to lightly touch their daughter's hair.

"Just like her mother." He could feel her place a light kiss on the side of his neck and let her chin rest on his shoulder. "Claire."

"Mac." Her breath tickled his neck. "We don't have to. I know you're hesitant and it's under – "

"I want to name her that."

"You sure."

"Have I ever said something that I wasn't sure about?"

Her laughter sounded like music to his ears. "No...Claire Taylor. Perfect."

"We need a middle name."

"We should let Gabe pick."

Mac turned his head to look Boston in the eye. Just when he thought he had her all figured, she would go and pull something like this and completely flabbergast him. He wasn't stupid; he knew that most other women would have ran when Gabe came into the picture. But for some reason, which Mac didn't entirely understand, Boston had stuck around. Speechless, Mac simply nodded his head.

"The whole lab's probably out in the waiting room. You should go tell them that she's fine."

Mac didn't look up from where he was staring at Claire. "You just wanna hold her."

"Well ya," Boston laughed. "That too."

"Gimme a few more minutes?"

Boston nodded into his neck, "Sure."

* * *

Ten minutes later Mac was walking towards the waiting room. He hadn't really wanted to leave his girls, but Boston had insisted that he go out and inform everyone of the arrival of baby Claire.

"Mac!" he heard a tiny voice squeal as he walked into the waiting room. He turned just in time to see a blur hurtling towards him.

"Hey Gabe." Mac lifted the boy with ease. He and Boston had decided not to tell anyone about Gabe for the time being. They didn't want questions or inquires to arise. Peyton, with Mac's help, had gotten her position back at the M.E.'s office and they wanted the team to realize that they could work together objectively before they revealed that they had a child together. But his team wasn't stupid and this little display wouldn't go unnoticed. Mac turned his attention to the team ignoring their questioning looks and cocked eyebrows, and simply said, "It's a girl."

Cheers broke out and Danny was the first to rise. Slapping Mac on the back, he said, "Welcome to the club. You'll never be the same."

With a fleeting glance at Gabe, Stella pulled Mac into a hug. "Congratulations, Mac. You deserve all the happiness in the world."

"What's her name?" Adam asked as he gave Mac an awkward half hug, half hand shake.

"Claire." That was all that need to be said.

"Good name," Flack said.

Lindsey gave Mac a hug, "How's our B.?"

"She's good. Tired, but good."

"Any complications with Claire being premature?" Hawkes asked. "If you don't mind me asking."

"It's okay. She's underweight, only five pounds, one ounce. They're going to keep her for a few days to make sure all her organs are developed. But other than that she's great. A healthy, bubbly baby girl. If all goes right, she should be home for Christmas."

"Can I go see her? Is she still my sister?" Gabe spoke for the first time since bounding into Mac's arms.

"Yeah," he smiled, "she's still you're sister." He looked at Peyton, who nodded. "Let's go see her." He turned his back on his team and carried Gabe towards Boston's room. He knew that eventually he'd have to address the Gabe issue, but right now he just wanted to enjoy the fact that his family was finally all together.

"Hey, big brother," Boston greeted them as soon as they entered the room.

"That's me!" Gabe beamed.

"Yep. And this is Claire." Mac picked Gabe up and sat him down next to Boston so that he could get a good look at where Claire was asleep in her arms.

"She's so small," he whispered. "Can I touch her?"

Boston nodded. "Just be gentle."

Gabe nodded and slowly reached out lightly touching her hair. "It's so soft."

For several minutes Mac and Boston watched Gabe get to know Claire. Finally Mac broke the silence. "We want you to pick her middle name."

Gabe looked up from Claire with wide eyes, "Me?"

Boston laughed, "Yeah, you."

"Hmm..."Gabe contemplated. "It's almost Christmas. So, how about Jingle or Presents. Oh, or Santa."

"Or Noelle," Mac said softly.

"Yeah, yeah! Noelle," Gabe squeaked.

"Claire Noelle Taylor."

Gabe nodded, "I like it."


	34. The Calm Before The Storm

A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews. I think I responded to all of them, but if I didn't, well, thanks! Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Boston.

* * *

"Mac?"

Mac turned his head towards the quiet voice behind him. "What are you doing up, kiddo?" He pushed himself off the doorframe and squatted down in front of the young boy

"Is she o'tay?" Gabe whispered, pointing into Claire's nursery. Mac looked over his shoulder to glance once again towards Claire's crib. The week old baby had been home for two days and Mac had been scared shitless every single second of it. What if she stopped breathing? What if she wouldn't latch on to Boston? What if she wouldn't sleep? What if she climbed out of her crib, picked the lock to the gun safe, and shot herself? He hadn't spoken a word of his fears to Boston. She'd been running on empty. Between diaper changes and feedings and running the household, Boston hadn't slept a wink in the last few days. She had just settled in, hoping to catch a few hours sleep before Claire woke again.

"Yeah, she's fine."

"Then why you watchin' 'er?"

Mac shrugged. "I just wanted to make sure she was okay."

"Me too."

Mac smiled and ran a hand through Gabe's hair. "C'mon buddy. Let's get you back to bed. Santa won't come if you're not asleep."

"Can I just look at her once? I promise I'll be quiet," he asked in his small voice.

Mac couldn't help but say yes. Scooping the boy up in his arms, Mac stood and walked back into the nursery. The two men stood over Claire's crib, silently admiring her.

"I love you 'ister," Gabe whispered. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Mac tightened his grip on his son and pressed a kiss to the boy's temple.

A few minutes later, Mac was tucking him back into his racecar shaped bed. "Can I ask you a question?" Gabe asked as Mac pulled his _Finding Nemo_ sheets up to his chin and tucked his Nemo stuffed animal under his arm.

"Sure."

"Promise you won't get mad?"

Mac nodded, "Promise."

"Do you still love me?"

A state of confession over took him. "Of course I love." Running a hand over the side of Gabe's face, Mac asked, "Why would you even think that?"

" 'Cause now you have Claire."

Buying himself some time, Mac adjusted his position so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed. "Just because the baby's here, doesn't mean I love you any less. You're still my buddy." They were both silent for a few moments, before Mac spoke again, "Same goes for Boston, you know that, right?" Gabe nodded, but Mac remained unconvinced. "We both love you so much. And Claire doesn't change that. Nothing will ever change that. You'll always be our son."

"But I'm not Boston's real son." A frown settled on Mac's face as he tried to think of the best way to handle this situation, but Gabe spoke again before he got the chance. "A boy at my school said that Boston will love Claire more than me 'cause I'm not her real son. Is she gonna hate me?"

"You know what I love most about Boston?" Mac asked, resting his hand on Gabe's stomach. "She has so much love in her heart. She thinks of you as her own son. She loves you so much and is so proud of you."

"Does dat mean I have two mummies?" Mac smiled; Gabe's accent always got thicker when he was tired.

"Well, if you wanna think of Boston as you're mom, then that's great. Or she can just be a friend for you to talk to; that's okay too. But you still have to listen to her because she just wants what's best for you."

"Will she be mad if I don't call her mom?"

Mac shook his head and moved his hand so that it rested on Gabe's shoulder. "No. She won't be mad. She just wants to be in your life 'casue she loves you."

"I tink I love 'er, too. She's really nice. And she's pretty. And she smells nice. And she makes good cookies."

Laughing, Mac nodded. "That she does." Standing up, Mac pressed a kiss to Gabe's forehead.  
"It's time for bed, buddy. The sooner you get to sleep, the sooner Christmas will be here." Mac took one last minute to rearrange his sheets and make sure Gabe was tucked in tight, before he headed for the door.

"Wait!" Gabe called just as Mac was about to flip the light off. Turning back towards Gabe, he waited for him to continue. "I've been tinkin', and I've decided that I'm gonna call you Dad. Is dat o'tay?"

Mac couldn't speak, so he just nodded dumbly. Walking back towards the boy, he pulled Gabe close to his chest. They stayed like that for a second before Mac finally gained control of his emotions. "I love you so much, Gabe. I'm lucky to be your dad."

"I love you too, Daddy."

* * *

Mac decided that he'd check on Claire one last time before he joined Boston in bed. Much to his surprise, Boston was sitting in the rocking chair feeding Claire. He stopped just inside the doorway and marveled at his wife and daughter.

After a few moments, Boston looked up and smiled when she spotted Mac. "Hey babe."

"Hey." He didn't move from his spot, choosing instead to watch his girls just a little longer. "You're beautiful." Boston smiled but shook her head in disbelief. Closing the distance between them, Mac crouched down beside Boston and lightly ran his thumb over Claire's forehead. "Really. Every day you get more beautiful. Motherhood suites you."

Smiling widely, Boston leaned in for a kiss. "Fatherhood doesn't look too shabby on you, either." And it was true. She knew that Mac would be an amazing father, but as her pregnancy progressed, she often wondered how he would deal with a small baby. He had always been a bit skittish around small babies not really caring to hold them until they got bigger. She figured that he was afraid of hurting a tiny baby, and that worried her; she wasn't sure how helpful he'd be in their baby's early days. But Boston should've known better than to doubt her husband. Since day one, he'd been more than willing to help. Since Boston was breast feeding, there wasn't much for Mac to do, but he changed Claire's diapers, gave her baths, and often got up in the middle of the night to bring the baby to Boston. But most importantly, he'd made sure to spend time with Gabe. In the week since Claire had been born, Mac and Gabe had went to a movie, out to breakfast twice, and visited Claire and Boston in the hospital a handful of times.

They both sat in silence for several minutes, lost in their own thoughts. Reaching up to play with a piece of Boston's hair, Mac said quietly, "He called me Dad."

Behind the simple sentence, Boston could hear the emotion running through Mac's voice and wasn't surprised to see his eyes brimming with tears. "Mac. I don't know what to say. That's amazing."

Mac nodded. "It's funny how quickly your entire world can change. Two years ago, I was at work pulling a double, desperately trying to avoid the holidays. Now I have a wife, two kids, a living room full of toys, and every, single word of _Finding Nemo _memorized."

"We really have got to break that DVD," Boston laughed. Adjusting the baby on her shoulder, Boston started to burp Claire. "Speaking of _Nemo_, I need to wrap Gabe's presents."

"Done. They're already under the tree along with Santa's presents."

Mac was rewarded with a kiss. "Thanks, babe. You're such a big help."

Claire chose to interrupt her parents' romantic moment with a loud burp. "Wow, that was a big one," Mac laughed tickling Claire's nose. Cooing at her daddy, she nuzzled her head into the crook of Boston's neck. "C'mon Bos. Let's go back to bed."

* * *

It seemed like Mac had just closed his eyes when he heard the bedroom door being pushed open and tiny feet running into the room. They stopped just short of the bed and for a moment, Mac was sure that he had imagined them. But then a small mass came hurtling towards him and landed on his chest with a dull thud. Jolting up, Mac came face to face with a grinning Gabe. "Daddy, Boston, it's 'istmas." Groaning, Mac wrapped his arms around the bouncing boy and pulled him down between himself and Boston, snuggling deeper into bed. "No, Daddy," Gabe giggled. "We 'ave to get up. It's 'istmas!"

"Here that, Mackie?" he heard Boston mumble beside him, "It's 'istmas."

"Boston!" Gabe squealed, wiggling in Mac's arms to face Boston. "Can we still 'ave pancakes for 'eakfast?"

"Of course we can still have pancakes for breakfast. Do you want blueberry or strawberry?"

"Blueberry! Blueberry! I love blueberries!"

"Blueberry it is," Boston laughed.

"Can I 'elp make them? I'm a good 'elper."

Poking his nose, Boston agreed, "You're the best helper." Pushing off the covers, she swung her legs over the edge. "C'mon, Gabe, let's go make breakfast while Mac sleeps a little while longer."

"I can get up," Mac grumbled but didn't bother moving.

He felt Boston press a kiss into his hair and whisper in his ear, "No, get some sleep, babe. But if Claire wakes up, will you get her?"

He answered with a slight nod and listened sleepily while Boston and Gabe talked quietly on their way out of the room. A few moments later, he heard a loud squeal come from the kitchen and he realized that he was missing out on all the fun. Not only was this Claire's first Christmas, but it was also their Christmas with Gabe and Mac didn't want to sleep through it.

* * *

Mac was greeted by a shriek as he entered the kitchen, "Daddy! You wake!"

"Yep, I'm awake." Reaching to give Boston a kiss on her cheek, he asked, "What can I help with?"

Nodding toward Gabe, she placed a large spoon in his hand. "Why don't you help the chef stir?"

"Look, Daddy. I use my hands." Gabe proudly held up his batter covered hands.

"I hope you washed them first."

"Of course I did, silly." Turning to Boston, Gabe shook his head, "Daddy's a silly head."

Laughing, Boston nodded her head and poked Mac in the stomach. "I know, but that's why we love him."

"And 'cause he plays dinosaurs wit' me," Gabe added.

"That too." Opening the container of blueberries, Boston grabbed one and popped it into Mac's awaiting mouth then gave him a quick kiss. "Love you," she said quietly.

"Love ya, too," he said equally as quiet.

"Claire's alive!" Gabe noted as soon as they heard a cry coming over the baby monitor.

Wiping her hands on a clean dishrag, Boston turned towards Mac, "Yep. I'll go get her ready if you boys wanna finish up breakfast?"

"Works for me." He watched her leave the kitchen before he turned back to Gabe. "Okay, buddy. How about we make Mickey Mouse shaped pancakes?"

The small boy bounced atop the step stool and clapped his hands. "I love Mick' Mouse!"

* * *

It had only been ten minutes when Mac walked back into the nursery with a frown. _Uh oh_, Boston thought, _this can't be good_.

"She good?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, she's fine. Just hungry," Boston answered from the rocking chair.

Nodding his head, he stayed quiet for several minutes before he finally sighed and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I have to go into work."

Smirking, Boston shook her head. "No."

"Boston – "

"No, Mac. It's Christmas. You can't go into the lab."

"The state Attorney General was just murdered. The governor asked for me personally."

"Well, I'm asking you personally to stay."

"You know I wouldn't go if I didn't have to."

"You don't have to, Mac."

"Don't be like this, Boston."

"Why can't Hawkes do it? He's the one that's actually on duty. He's more than capable"

"True, but the governor didn't ask for Hawkes."

"This is your first Christmas with Gabe. You're gonna miss out on everything."

"Goddamn it, Boston," Mac snarled. "Don't make me out to be some absentee father. I wouldn't go if I didn't absolutely have to."

Boston stood up and took Claire over to the changing table. "Do whatever you want, Mac. But this isn't how it's gonna be. My daughter will _not_ have a father who misses out on her life."

Mac stood in silence staring at her, lips pressed together, for a full minute before he finally sneered, "Do _not_ threaten me." With that, he turned on his heel and slammed the door behind him.

* * *

Seven hours later, Mac and Peyton were running towards the emergency room at St. Mary's Hospital. After a brief stop at the nurses' station, they were directed towards a room on the third floor. The ride in the elevator was silent, both trying to stop themselves from thinking the worst. After what seemed like an eternity, they made it to the third floor. They finally found the room and rushed inside just in time to see a blue cast being fitted to Gabe's right arm.

"How did this happen?" Peyton immediately asked as she hurried to Gabe's side.

"I jumped off the couch, Mummy, and hit the coffee table. But don't worry, Boston took care of me. She and Daddy got me a cape just like Superman has. So, I was tryin' to fly," Gabe said all in one breath.

Turning to Boston, Peyton sent a glare. "You have to pay constant attention to children."

"I was in the kitchen making lunch," Boston said quietly.

"He's four," Peyton scowled. "You can't leave four year olds alone."

For a second, Mac thought Boston was going to defend herself, but instead she just nodded simply and turned her attention to Claire.

"Mummy," Gabe drew the attention of Peyton. "Daddy and Boston also are going to get me a doggie. Can you believe that? This was the bestest 'istmas ever!"

* * *

It had taken nearly another hour to finish Gabe's cast and to make it back to Peyton's apartment. Boston had been eerily quiet the entire time and neither Mac nor Peyton addressed her. Logically, Mac knew how much of a handful Gabe could be and realized that Boston would never intentionally hurt Gabe. But then he saw the cast and tear stained cheeks on his son and felt a fiery anger bubble inside of him. Gabe had fallen asleep on the ride home, so Mac carried him up to his room, leaving Peyton and Boston alone in the living room. He was just reentering the room when he heard Peyton's raised voice, "You are completely irresponsible. It's time you grew up and start acting like a grown up. You can be reckless with her," she pointed to Claire, who was sleeping peacefully in her carrier, unaware of the commotion surrounding her, "all you want, but you won't be careless with my son. You are never to be left alone with Gabe. Ever."

Boston sent a desperate look towards Mac, but he simply stood at the corner of the room. Finally she said in a small voice that Mac had never heard before, "I'm gonna go. I'll see ya back at home, Mac."

When Boston and Claire were gone, Peyton walked closer to Mac. "I can't believe she broke Gabe's arm."

"She didn't break Gabe's arm. It was an accident."

"Accidents can't happen with our son, Mac."

_Our son._ It sounded so strange to Mac. He hadn't ever really thought of Gabe as his and Peyton's son. _Peyton wouldn't let anything happen to our son_. And then suddenly Mac was thinking of what life would've been like with Peyton. She was so different from Boston, and that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. She was so feminine and quiet. She understood his job and the hours that it called for. And he'd always liked the way she'd said his name in her English accent. It brought to life all his dirty librarian fantasies. And before he knew what he was doing, he was tangling one hand into the hair he had once loved so much and letting his other sprawl across her lower back, tugging her close to his chest. His lips pressed against her own soft ones as his tongue forced its way into her familiar mouth. Her hands were cupping the back of his neck in the leisurely way that she always did.

Suddenly, her hair felt too long. Her lips were a tad too soft and her tongue a bit too gentle. She wasn't Boston. She didn't laugh at inappropriate times like Boston. She didn't run her hands through his hair like Boston. She didn't drive him nuts like Boston. While Peyton was familiar and he had been in love with her at one time, she couldn't hold a candle to Boston. "Oh God," Mac groaned, pushing Peyton away from him. "I'm so sorry, Peyton. So sorry." Rushing to the door, he grabbed his coat. "Tell Gabe I'll call him tomorrow." Turning to face her one last time, he shook his head, "This won't happen again. It _can't_ happen again."

* * *


	35. Run Or Stay

A/N: You are all _so_ amazing! The response from the last chapter was overwhelming. I love you all (even the lurkers)! Happy Valentine's Day and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Boston.

* * *

Instead of hailing a cab, Mac decided to walk the thirty-six blocks from Peyton's place to his and Boston's apartment. He hoped the walk and the brisk air would give him a chance to figure out what he was going to do. Should he even tell Boston about the kiss? It had been a mistake and Mac knew that he'd never let himself be that weak again. Any lingering feelings he had for Peyton were nothing compared to the overwhelming feelings of love, friendship, and respect that coursed through his body for Boston. But if he kept it a secret, when she did eventually find out, because she _would_ eventually find out, then he would've not only kissed another woman but also lied about it.

It wasn't the act of telling Boston that Mac was most afraid of; it was the look on her face he knew that she'd get upon hearing the news. Her eyes would widen in pain. Tears would start filling her eyes and soon trail down her cheeks. Her forehead would scrunch up as the full impact of what he had done hit her. Then her breathing would quicken and before he knew what hit him, she would cover her face in her hands and sob as the agony overwhelmed her. She didn't cry often, but whenever she did, it broke his heart. He always felt useless and could never think of anything to say to take away her pain. Not that it really mattered because half the time he was the reason she was crying.

She'd usually be pissed for a while, he'd apologize, she'd tell him how much of an ass he was, and then they'd make up. But Mac wasn't sure if she'd be able to forgive him this time. After the last time that he'd broken her trust, when he'd lied about Reed, it had taken months for Boston to completely trust him again. So he could only imagine how'd she react after she found out that Mac had cheated on her. "Goddamn it," Mac mumbled under his breath. "Goddamn it," he said again, loud enough for the women next to him to give him a dirty look and pull her purse closer to her person.

How had things gotten so out of control? Less than ten hours ago he had been throwing blueberries into Gabe's mouth while his wife had been taking care of his baby girl. And somewhere along the way, he had taken his anger and fear of Gabe being hurt out on Boston and betrayed her. He had never meant to hurt her; that was the last thing he wanted to do. _God, Mac. What the fuck were you thinking?_ He should have defended her; he knew that she hadn't been in the wrong. The kid was four and more than capable of keeping himself occupied for ten minutes while Boston made lunch. He wasn't a baby and didn't need to be wrapped in bubble wrap or under constant supervision. Boys will be boys and there was no doubt in Mac's mind that Gabe's future was full of broken bones, bumps, and bruises. When Mac had been Gabe's age he had broken his nose and gashed open the side of his head by jumping off his front steps into a pile of leaves with Jimmy Bedford.

Deep down, he knew that Peyton hadn't really meant the things she said. She was just worried about Gabe and needed to place the blame on anybody but her son. Hell, that's what Mac felt too. Maybe that's why he hadn't defended her. Because regardless who was at fault, it had been Boston who was with Gabe when it had happened. Gabe had been _her _responsibility. Her only job was to make sure that his kids were safe, and she had failed miserably the first time he'd left her alone. How was he ever supposed to trust her alone with Gabe and Claire after this?

_Shut the fuck up! You're such a fucking asshole. Jesus Mac, this isn't her fault. She didn't throw Gabe off the couch and intentionally break his arm. The kid is a human hurricane and could've just as easily gotten hurt if you woulda been there. And she didn't force your fuckin' tongue down Peyton's throat._ "Goddamn it." Mac felt sick to his stomach as the kiss replayed in his mind. The memory of Peyton's hands heated up his neck and for a quick second, he thought he was going to vomit. A bitter laugh escaped his lips as it dawned on him that he had just broken the one good thing in his life for twenty seconds of lust with the woman that had broken him.

And suddenly he was running. He was vaguely aware of the sound of his feet pounding against the pavement as he pushed his way through the crowded streets. Whether he was running towards Boston or away from Peyton, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that he had, _had_, to get to Boston. It was as if he would literally stop breathing if he didn't see her smile, feel her fingers running through his hair, hear her talking about Abraham Lincoln, taste her cherry flavored chapstick or smell her floral conditioner. His breathing quickened, but Mac wasn't sure if it was because he was sprinting down crowded New York streets or because he knew that he was only seven blocks away from his world crumbing. His legs burned as he rushed by happy couples, smiling children bundled in new winter jackets, and jolly Santas ringing bells. His dress pants were pulling uncomfortably at his legs, threatening to rip with each stride, but his own guilt kept him surging forward.

The doorman barely had time to get out of the way as Mac dashed through the lobby. Not bothering to stop at the elevator, he ripped open the stairway door and took the stairs two at a time. He knew that the elevator would be quicker, but his shame kept him from taking the easy way. Elevators were for faithful men who spent the holidays with their families and stood up for their wife. Mac didn't deserve to use the elevator. His legs deserved to ache just like Boston's heart was going to ache.

His keys were already in his hand when he threw open the hallway door. But as he came to a stop outside their apartment door about to insert the key into the lock, a laugh came from the other side. And then he couldn't. He felt his legs give under him, not from the twenty blocks and nine flights of stairs that he'd just ran but from the sound of Boston's voice. She was talking to _their_ daughter. Their week old baby daughter. The soft hum of Christmas music drifted out into the hall and the flashing lights from the tree that Gabe and Boston had set up the day after Thanksgiving flickered under the door. He should be in there helping Boston out and rocking Claire in his arms.

_You're a fuckin' idiot. You had everything, _everything_, you'd ever wanted; an amazing son, a beautiful baby girl, and an incredible wife who's brought so much happiness and love to your life. And then you went and destroyed her. God Mac, you don't deserve her. You deserve to be miserable and alone and to rot in hell. This is the third strike; you're out._

_No! No. She has to forgive you. She has to. You have to make her understand that it was a mistake and that it will, without a doubt, never happen again. You have to make her see how much you love her and that she's the only one you ever want to kiss and love and be with for the rest of your life. She can't leave. _"She can't leave."

Pushing himself up, Mac quickly grabbed his keys jamming them into the lock. Taking a deep breath, he slowly opened the door, unsure of what would lie on the other side. Boston and Claire were nowhere to be seen. As he walked deeper into their apartment, Mac had the vague notion that he was walker deeper into his own personal hell.

His breathing hitched when he walked into their bedroom. Boston's favorite duffel bag was propped open on the bed surrounded by a few stacks of clothing and two pair of shoes. Normally the sight of her ragged but beloved bag brought a smile to his face. It was old, patched together, and the ugliest shade of yellow that Mac had ever seen. But now the sight of it was just as devastating as if it had been her wedding band laying on the bed. Boston wasn't in the room, but he could hear rummaging in the closet and Claire's steady breathing coming through the baby monitor.

Mac wasn't sure how long he'd been standing in the doorway before Boston finally walked out of the closet holding a few random pieces of clothing. She stopped in her tracks when she saw Mac leaning against the doorjamb. The two stood in silence for several moments, staring at each other, before Mac broke the silence. "Hey." The one word seemed to break her trance. With a clenched jaw, Boston walked to the bed, ignoring Mac completely. She wasn't going to let him off easy. Not that he expected her to. "I'm sor – "

"Stop!...Just don't. Don't even start." He was about to say something when she looked up through her eyelashes and glared at him. Closing his mouth dumbly, they remained enclosed in silence while Mac watched his wife pack her bag. After what seemed like an eternity, Boston looked up again, this time with a gentler look. "I'm going to Nebraska."

That was the last thing Mac expected to escape from her lips. She'd said _I'm going to Nebraska_ not _we're going._ She might as well just have sucker punched him in the gut. All coherent thought escaped him. "Claire," was all that he managed to gasp out.

"She's coming, too." Holding her hand up in the effort to stop Mac's objections, she continued, "I'm borrowing Lindsey's car. I already talked to Dr. Roberts and he gave the go ahead and gave me the number for a pediatrician friend of his in North Platte, just in case." The methodological way she said it made Mac think that she'd practiced it, already knowing what his objections would be and figuring out answers for them before he even shadowed the doorstep.

"You can't drive all that way."

"It's a two day trip. I'll be fine."

"You'll have to stop to take care of Claire." Mac knew it was a stupid observation, but he was trying to think of anything to back her stay.

Boston scoffed bitterly, "I took care of her and a screaming four year old in a crowded ER for four hours earlier today. I think I can manage to pull over and feed her all by my lonesome."

"Don't go," Mac pleaded, taking a step closer to her.

"Why? Why should I stay here?"

"I'm here."

Laughing, Boston started shoving her clothes into the bag. "Great. A husband who doesn't defend me."

"I'm sorry about that. I just..." What could he possibly say to make up for the fact that he'd let his ex talk down to his wife.

"Just what, Mac?" Boston snapped. Nothing came to mind so he just stood there dumbly. Looking over her bag, she looked him directly in the eye. "I know I could have defended myself but I didn't because I know who I am. I _am_ a responsible woman and I know that Gabe's accident was not my fault. I know that. But Peyton doesn't know me. We've met, what, half a dozen times? She didn't even know I existed until two months ago. But you, Mac, you are supposed to know me." Anger was rising in her voice, "You're supposed to know who I am. I know you were mad and scared, but you're supposed to defend me even when you think I'm at fault. I'm pretty sure that was written between the lines of our wedding vows. There is no excuse for you letting Peyton talk to me like that."

When Mac finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper, "I know who you are."

Shaking her head, Boston turned away. "I don't think you do."

Mac looked up from his shoes. Their eyes met and Boston could particularly see him talking to her with his eyes. "I'm so sorry. I'll go over to Peyton's right now and tell her what a bitch she is and I'll never talk to her again unless it has to do with Gabe. Just please…what can I do to prove it you?" he pleaded.

"Nothing." Sighing, she threw a pair of pajama pants into her bag and plopped down on the edge of the bed. In a soft tone she said, "I just need a little time to think."

"You can think here. I'll leave if you want. I'll get a hotel room until we figure things out. It'll give us a chance to talk."

"I need to get out of the city for a little while."

"What do you need to think about?" Mac was about to take a seat beside her, but decided against it at the last second. Instead, he stood awkwardly in the middle of the room with his hands shoved in his pockets.

"Us." Pinching the bridge of her nose, she took a moment to collect her thoughts before continuing. "Whenever you've needed me, I've been there. During the shooting, during the Gabe thing, during the touch cases, I've been there. But the one time I really needed you, you weren't there. I needed you today and you let me down. You missed your daughter's first Christmas, Mac. You missed seeing Gabe open his gifts. And you weren't there when he broke his arm. You didn't answer your phone and you didn't return my calls. So I had to take a week old baby to the emergency room because there was no one else to help me. Danny and Linds are in Montana and Don and Stell are on vacation. And I have no one else in the city besides you and the team. I've completely built my life around you...I've lost myself."

Mac could feel his pulse quicken. It sounded like she was leaving him. "What are you saying?"

She paused for a moment, looking him in the eye and biting her lower lip. "I'm saying I just need a little time to figure out what I want."

"You don't want me?"

Boston had to look away. She couldn't stand to see the look of hurt that was running rampant on Mac's face. "I love you, Mac," she said softly. "But this isn't what I signed up for."

Blinking a few times, Mac took several steps back and when he felt his back hit the wall, he slid down until he was sitting on the floor opposite Boston. Just ten minutes ago he had been in the same position just outside their apartment wanting to be on the inside. Now he was on the inside wishing he was outside. The irony wasn't lost on him. "You're talking about Gabe." It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

"Ya know I love Gabe, right?" She waited until he nodded his head to continue, "But things got so messy when he came into our life."

"I'm not going to ignore my own son just because you don't want your life to be messy," Mac said confidently.

"I didn't ask you to, Mac," she barked.

"No, but you're asking me pick between you and him."

"I would never ask you to do that." Lowering her voice, she said, "You have to understand where I'm coming from. I had just figured out who I was when I met you. And then I had to figure out how to be the Detective Taylor's significant other. And then we found out I was pregnant and I had to figure out how to be a mom. And then Gabe came along and suddenly I was someone's stepmom. And I just...I feel like I can't breathe. It's too much."

"You don't want to be any of those things?" Mac focused on his hands. He didn't want to see the tears rolling down Boston's cheeks.

"You're not listening, Mac. I do wanna be all those things. But they all just happened too quickly."

They sat in silence for several minutes before Mac asked the one question that could tear his world apart. "Would you still marry me? If you knew then what you know now about Gabe and everything that happened today, would you still marry me?"

"I don't know," she said honestly. "I certainly would've taken more time." They each were quiet, letting the weight of the revelation settle around them. Boston was the one to break the silence speaking quietly. "It sucks being a stepmom. I love Gabe, but it's hell. I have no legal rights. I'm just a glorified babysitter. And then I have to deal with Peyton and her looks." Mac looked at her for the first time with a cocked eyebrow. Boston let out a genuine laugh when she saw his face. "Of course _you_ wouldn't notice. You're so oblivious sometimes. She's still in love with you, Mac. That's why she came back: to be with you." She started to talk more quickly so that Mac couldn't interrupt her. "I know you wouldn't do anything. I trust you." _I trust you_. Those three little words burned into Mac's skin like lava. "And I dealt with it all because I thought you had my back. I thought you'd be there to help me deal with it all and I was so sure that you'd keep Peyton in line. But then today you proved me wrong. You weren't here when I needed you and you didn't stand up to Peyton; you just let her talk shit about me. So, now I'm not sure I can do this." Mac's world had just ended. Boston must have been able to read the devastated look on his face because she quickly added, "I'm not saying we're over. I love you, Mac. I just need some time. I need to be around people who know me."

"I know who you are," Mac said for the second time. Boston didn't respond. He knew he was losing her. She had just confessed that she wasn't happy with her entire life and now she was running off to Nebraska with their daughter. He might as well be completely honest with her. What more did he have to lose? "I feel like this is the fork in the road. You're going to go to Nebraska and never come back."

Shaking her head, Boston looked up at him. "That's not going to happen. I won't keep Claire away from you. It's just for a week. I promise."

"Can I tell you something before you go?" Boston nodded. Rising to his feet, Mac walked over to her and squatted in front of her. Cupping her face in his hands, he looked directly into her eyes. "I love you. And I will never stop loving you. Ever. I can do better. I _will_ do better. I'll be there for you...whenever you need me, I'll be there. Take all the time you need, but..." he clenched his jaw and Boston saw tears filling his eyes. He was barely hanging onto his emotions. "Just don't give up on us. Please." Nodding, she leaned in for a kiss, but Mac pulled back. "Promise me that you'll remember this in ten seconds."

"I promise."

It was now or never. "I kissed Peyton."

Blinking once, twice, Mac could practically see the wheels turning in her mind. Her face scrunched in confusion. "On the cheek. You kissed her on the cheek. One of those European double cheek kisses."

"No," Mac choked.

"_She_ kissed you."

He'd never wanted to lie so bad in his life. He could blame the whole thing on Peyton. No, he couldn't. Not after Boston had been so honest with him. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he manned up. "No."

He waited for her to start crying, but she stayed eerily calm. And suddenly he was praying she would start crying. Because he was used to the crying. He knew how to deal with the crying. Instead, she just sat there looking through him. And then she snapped. Jumping to her feet, she pushed Mac causing him to fall backwards and hit his head on the edge of the entertainment center. "Get out," she snarled at him. His mind wasn't functioning, so he just stared at her numbly, vaguely aware of the ache building at the back of his head. "Get the fuck out!"

* * *


	36. Drowning In The Loss

A/N: I'm on a roll! Once again, thanks so much for all the fantastic reviews! I love you guys. And a special thanks to **Blaze709** for the advice and **starlite_2112** for the review. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Boston.

* * *

"We're here, Claire bear. Welcome to the Waters' farm," Boston quietly said as she turned onto the familiar dirt road that lead to her parents house. Looking in the rearview mirror Boston saw a sleeping Claire, oblivious to the world, her head pressed to the side of the car seat, mouth wide open and a sliver of drool escaping her mouth. Mac slept like that, too. Mouth half open, head cocked to the side. He always looked so peaceful when he slept, like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. It didn't happen often, but whenever she awoke before Mac, Boston liked to stare at him, cementing the image into her brain. He always looked handsome with all his facial features relaxed, unaware of all the bad that was happening in the world.

Returning her eyes to the road, Boston gripped the steering wheel tighter. She didn't want to think about Mac. Not when she was so close to home and so close to breaking down. She had called her parents the morning before, just outside Clintonville, Pennsylvania. She'd given the short version, saying that Mac hadn't had her back and now she needed time to think about what she wanted. _Oh, and Mac kissed Peyton_. She hoped that her family got all the shock and gossip out of their system before she arrived. She didn't want to hear their hushed whispers or see their sympathetic looks. She was embarrassed. She wasn't even thirty and had what was fast becoming a failed marriage. Not only had all her siblings gotten married younger than she had, they also all had successful marriages. Boston had always been the black sheep of the family: she'd gone to college, moved away from home, and had a thriving social life when she'd been single. So why wouldn't she be the one who got a divorce? The lonely spinster. "Awesome," she mumbled under her breath.

Pulling up in front of the house, she turned off the ignition but remained sitting in the car. The last time she'd been home had been under happier circumstances. She and Mac had come down in May to celebrate her dad's sixtieth birthday. Boston remembered thinking how relaxed Mac looked. It was right before he was to return full time to active duty, he had fully recovered from the shooting, and he didn't have a million work related concerns flowing through his mind. Their days had been filled with laughter, banter, and stolen kisses. Their nights had consumed of quiet looks, deep conversations, and slow, gentle lovemaking.

It was funny; even though Boston had twenty-seven years of memories here that had nothing to do with Mac, it seemed that now all she could remember were the two years of memories that were _all_ Mac. The lake wasn't the lake where she had first learned how to ice skate when she was six. It was now the lake that she'd pushed Mac into after he'd chased her with a fish. The cornfield wasn't the place she used to sneak out to in the middle of the night to make sure aliens hadn't come and made crop circles. It was now the place where she and Mac had lazily wandered through during a sudden thunderstorm. The grain silo wasn't the place she'd played tea party in when she was little, using the barn cats as her guests. It was now the place where she and Mac had snuck off to when they'd played Hide and Seek with her nieces and nephews. Everywhere she looked, she only saw Mac. She couldn't see Boston anymore.

Shaking her head in an effort to clear her head, Boston willed herself not to cry. She had managed not to shed any tears so far in her trip and she didn't want to start in the driveway of her childhood home. "You can do this, B." Nodding her head and reinforcing her reserves, she opened the door and took a step out. It had recently snowed and the driveway was covered in a light dusting of powder. Add to that the fact that it was closing in on eight thirty and the sun had long since set, and Boston couldn't see that she was stepping out onto a sheet of glossy, clear ice. She was all the way out and heading towards the back door to grab Claire when her feet slipped from under her. She flailed her arms about in the hopes of catching onto a safe hold, but all she managed to catch were handfuls of chilly air. Her ass took the brunt of the fall. She felt her head bounce on the concrete and her right hand collide with something sharp. _I'll just lay here awhile_, she said to herself. She wasn't severally hurt, she just didn't have the energy to pick herself back up.

She wasn't sure how long she laid there, spread-eagle, in the middle of the driveway, before she heard the front door open. Slow steps made their way out onto the porch and down the steps. They belonged to her mother, Nora. Boston had learned years ago how to distinguish her mother's footsteps from her father's. "Boston?" Her mother's quiet voice asked into the night and that was all it took to pierce Boston's armor. There had always been something about her mother's nonjudgmental voice and unconditional love that always managed to break her, no matter how hard she tried to control her emotions. Nora could always make things better with a hug and a kiss, a glass of cold milk, and a heaping plate of homemade cookies. But as Boston lay there, letting three days of anguish seep out of her body in the form of tears, she was painfully aware of the fact that no amount of hugs or cookies would ease the ache in her heart.

"Mom," Boston choked out when her mom kneeled beside her and pulled her into a hug. "Mom...He kissed _her_."

"I know, sweetie." They sat there for a long while, Boston sobbing into her mother's shoulder and Nora gently soothing her daughter's hair. Sometime in the middle of her breakdown, she heard someone come out of the house and grab the still sleeping Claire, taking her back inside. _That's for the best_, Boston thought, _she shouldn't see her mother like this._

They stayed like that even after Boston stopped crying. She finally broke the silence, speaking into Nora's shoulder. "I wish I'd never met him."

"That's not true," her mother said softly.

"You're right. 'Cause I got a beautiful baby girl and I'd do it all over just for her...But she's all I got outta the deal." They remained silent for several more minutes before Boston finally pulled away. "Is everybody else here?" she asked wiping her eyes. She really didn't want to deal with her entire family right now and being the family freak show.

Shaking her head, Nora tucked a piece of hair behind Boston's ear. "Jone is. That's it. We thought you could use a girls' night." Boston nodded; she could deal with her sister. "I even think your dad's asleep."

"It's eight thirty."

"What can I say? He likes his sleep. C'mon, B. You must be freezing. And you're hand's bleeding all over your jeans." Boston looked down at her hand. Sure enough, it was bleeding steadily. Logically, she knew it should hurt. It should burn and sting when the wind hit the wound. But she couldn't feel it. She couldn't feel the pain in her hand because the pain in her heart was too strong. "Boston." She met her mother's eyes. They were full of worry and she realized that she probably looked crazy, just staring at her hand as it bled.

"I'll be alright," she said quietly, talking more to herself than her mother.

Carefully pulling herself to her feet, Nora looked down at Boston. "I know you will." And suddenly they weren't talking about her hand anymore.

* * *

"Well, that took some balls."

Boston looked up from her glass of milk to stare at her sister. "Excuse me?" She had just finished telling Jone and Nora all the gory details of her fight with Mac.

"For Mac to tell you. That took some balls," Jone repeated.

"I think what you're sister's trying to say is that Mac didn't have to tell you." Nora gently put her hand on top of Boston's bandaged one. "After all, you had just told him that you were leaving him. He had to have known that telling you about the kiss would only make things worse. Or he could've blamed the whole thing on Peyton. But he didn't. He was honest with you and that has to count for something."

Yanking her hand from her mother's, Boston rolled her eyes. "Yeah, he's such an awesome guy that he told me he kissed another woman. He's a real winner."

"Don't be like that, B," Jone protested. "We're not condoning what he did. We're just saying that it must have been really hard for him to tell you that. Don't forget that."

* * *

On the fifth knock, Stella was pissed. On the eighth knock, she was worried. On the tenth knock, Flack took over. Slamming his fist rapidly into the door he yelled, "Open the door, Mac or I'll get the Super."

The threat seemed to work because less than ten seconds later, the click of the deadlock could be heard. Exchanging a quick glance with Stella, Flack slowly turned the doorknob with the same delicacy used when defusing a bomb. Pushing the door open, they remained outside staring into the empty entranceway for a few seconds. Flack mouthed to Stella _Stay here_ before he quietly walked inside the apartment. When he got to the end of the hallway he stuck his head around the corner, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw Mac, alone, sitting on his couch. Flack turned around to gesture for Stella to come in, behind she was standing right behind him. "I told you to stay outside," he whispered angrily at her.

Rolling her eyes, and completely ignoring him, Stella gave the room a once over. There were files stacked high on the coffee table and scattered on the flow mingling with a dozen or so empty beer bottles and numerous half-eaten take out containers. Mac's hair was sticking up on one side, he clearly hadn't shaved in some days, his dress pants were wrinkled, and his dress shirt was unbuttoned and partially pulled out of his pants. Flack cleared his throat, picked up an armful of beer bottles, and walked out of the room.

Once she heard the water in the kitchen turn on, Stella approached Mac. "What is all this?" she asked, picking up a pile of folders and taking a seat next to him.

"Work," he mumbled.

"Then why aren't you at work?" Stella and Flack had been in upstate New York visiting Don's extended family for the holidays when Lindsey had called. She didn't know any details, only that Boston was going back to Nebraska, and asked Stella to check in on Mac when they got back into the city, just to make sure he was okay. Both women knew that it would take something quite serious for Boston to take her newborn child halfway across the country during the holiday season. Stella had tried calling her, but Boston seemed to be ignoring her calls. That hurt. She had always thought she and Boston were real friends, but now it appeared that the younger woman didn't want to have anything to do with her. So, Stella would focus her attention on Mac.

"Peyton's there."

Stella didn't understand, "So, what? It seems you two have a good working relationship."

"That was before I kissed her."

_No_, was Stella's first thought. Not Mac. He was one of the good guys. He was an honest, upstanding type of guy. Guys like Mac don't cheat on their wife. Especially when said wife _just_ had a baby. Guys like Mac pamper their wives and protect their children. _No._ Stella shook her head. "Why?...Why would you kiss Peyton?"

Mac let out a bitter laugh. "I've been asking myself that same question for three days." When he turned away from her, Stella could see the tense expression playing on the side of his face. He was desperately trying to control his emotions. They each remained silent for who knows how long before Mac started to speak quietly. "She said she'd built her life around me. And that I didn't support her. I let Peyton talk to her like she was a twelve year old. And I didn't say anything. I missed Christmas. And I was so pissed off at her and worried about Gabe, that I kissed Peyton." He wasn't making much sense, but Stella got the gist of the story. She hadn't gotten the full story about Gabe, but it didn't take a CSI to figure out that he was Mac and Peyton's son. And knowing Mac, she would bet her life on the fact that he hadn't known of Gabe's existence until recently. "And then Boston was talking about how quickly everything happened and she wouldn't have married me if she knew about Gabe and how Peyton's in love with me. And she left– Goddamn it!" Stella jerked back in her seat as Mac threw a beer bottle at the opposite wall. Flack came running in from the kitchen to make sure everything was okay but left when Stella gave him a reassuring smile. "She left me, Stell," he choked out. "And I wanna hate her. I wanna hate her for running away and taking Claire away from me. But I can't 'cause I didn't give her anything to stay for. So, now I just hate myself."

Stella placed a gentle hand on Mac's back. "Everything will be okay." Her voice didn't even sound convincing to her own ears.

"I don't know what to do. I don't know how to convince her that I can change." She had never heard him sound so dejected. It was like he had already given up hope. Not knowing what to say, Stella just patted his back. Several minutes passed before there was a knock on the door.

"I'll get it," she heard Flack yell. "Umm…" he said walking back into the living room, "it's Peyton and your son, I forgot his name."

"Gabe...Shit. It's my night with him...Fuck...I can't do this."

"Cut the shit, Mac. You fucked up and know you have to deal with the consequences." Stella turned and stared wide-eyed at her boyfriend. He _never _cursed. "You have a kid and you can't just push him away because you don't feel like being with him." Flack reached down, grabbing Mac, and pushed him towards the bathroom. Mac struggled at first, and for a second Stella was sure that the two men were going to come to blows. But Mac soon stopped fighting and let Flack lead him out of the living room. "Go take a shower and pull yourself together. Take your time; we'll stay here until you're done." Turning towards Stella he said in a gentler tone, "Answer the door, please Stell. I'll pick up this mess."

Flack started gathering all the trash in the room while Stella made her way to the door. "Peyton," she said curtly. Kneeling down in front of the small boy, Stella smiled, "Hi, my name's Stella."

"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," he said confidently.

"It's okay, Gabe. She works with your Dad," Peyton said quietly, running a hand through his hair.

"Oh! Are you a peace officer, like Daddy?"

"Yep."

"Do you know Boston, too?"

"Yep." Stella looked up at Peyton and said, "We're good friends." Returning her eyes back down to Gabe, she sent him a smile.

"Daddy and Boston are gettin' me a doggie. Boston said I get to pick it out and name it. I'm tinkin' of either namin' it Nemo or Lionel. Nemo is after my favorite movie and Lionel just makes me laugh. Lionel," he stared giggling. Stella couldn't help but laugh alongside the boy. He definitely didn't get his chattiness from Mac.

"Where's Mac?" Peyton asked.

Rising to her feet, Stella looked Peyton straight in the eye. "He's taking a shower. Me and Flack can watch him until Mac's ready, if there's someplace you need to be."

"Where's Boston?" Gabe asked.

"She's not here right now," Stella said quietly.

"When will she'll be back?"

"Umm…you should ask your dad that, okay?"

"I'll stay and wait for Mac, if that's all right?" Stella nodded and moved aside to let Peyton and Gabe in.

Flack was nowhere to be found when the trio walked into the living room, but then neither were the beer bottles, trash, or files. Peyton and Stella sat in silence while Gabe put his bag in his room. "Hey, Peyton," Flack said reentering the room.

"Flack." The air was tense.

Stella was trying to think of something to say, when Gabe came running back in. Stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Flack, Gabe threw his head back and looked up at him. "Wow," he said, his voice full of awe. "You are tall."

"Thanks, shortie," Flack laughed.

"I'm Gabe Taylor," he said sticking out his hand.

Don shook it. "I'm Don Flack."

"Flack rhythms with quack and Don's like Donald Duck."

"You're really smart."

"Thank you, Duckie."

"No problem, shortie."

"DADDY!" Gabe yelled, running to a freshly bathed and clothed Mac. Stella could still see the circles under his eyes and slump in his step, but he looked much better.

Mac scooped Gabe up and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Hey, buddy. How's the arm?"

"Great. Will you sign my cast?"

"Maybe later."

"We're going to go." Flack handed Stella her coat. "You gonna be okay, Mac?"

"We'll be fine. Thanks…for everything."

"That's what friends are for," Flack said, sending him a small smile. "We'll walk you out, Peyton. We'll see ya later, shortie."

* * *

Flack and Stella sat in their car for several silent minutes. Seeing Mac in such an un-Mac like state had been emotionally tolling on both of them. Finally, Flack turned in his seat and pulled Stella into a passionate kiss. Once they pulled apart, Flack rested his forehead on Stella's.

"Promise you'll never cheat on me?" Stella asked quietly.

Flack nodded. "Promise you'll never leave me?"

"Promise."

* * *

Once everyone was gone, Mac and Gabe started to prepare dinner. "Daddy?" Gabe asked uncharacteristically quietly.

Mac turned from where he was looking in the pantry for anything edible and faced his son. "Yeah?"

"Where's Boston and Claire?" He was hoping the question wouldn't be asked, but he should have known better.

"C'mere." Mac grabbed Gabe's hand, took a seat at the dining table, and plopped Gabe on his lap. "Boston...um...she had to go away for a while."

"Where she go?"

"She had to go visit her family in Nebraska. And she took Claire with her."

"Is it because I hurt my arm? Does she hate me?" Mac could see tears welling up in his son's eyes.

"No." Grabbing Gabe's face, Mac made sure Gabe was looking him right in the eye. "You listen to me: this is _not_ your fault. Boston loves you very much."

"Then why did she leave?"

Sighing, Mac pulled Gabe into a hug. "Because I was mean," he mumbled into the boy's hair. "I didn't treat her very nice, so she had to go away."

"Will she be back?"

Mac shrugged. "I hope so."

"You should tell her you're sorry." If only life were that easy. "You could write her a letter. One time I kicked my cousin and Mummy made me write him a letter saying I was sorry."

"You know what? That's a great idea."

Gabe's face beamed. "Can I make her a card, too? I can draw the new doggie on it!"

"She'd love that."

Gabe hopped off Mac's lap and made a mad dash for his room to get his art supplies. Right before he left the room, he turned back around and faced Mac. "I miss her," he said simply.

Mac nodded, taking a deep breath. "Me too."

* * *


	37. Decisions Made

A/N: (Insert lame excuse for not updating sooner here). Thanks **starlite_2112** for the review.

Disclaimer: I own Boston and Gabe…and nothing else.

* * *

Boston loved Mac. She had never questioned that fact. And maybe that's why it hurt so much.

Over the last week, she'd thought a lot. Thought about what she wanted. What she needed. What she wanted for Claire. What she wanted for Mac. It hadn't been easy, but she'd finally made a decision. Sometimes you couldn't have what you wanted. Life wasn't fair and sometimes people got their hearts broken. But that was okay, she'd survived her fair share of heartbreak before. She would survive this, too.

* * *

"Mom says you're leaving tomorrow."

Boston looked up over her shoulder just in time to see her youngest brother, Cy, take a seat next to her. She nodded once while pulling her jacket closer to her.

They sat like that, side by side on the front steps, watching as the sky changed from brilliant blue to fiery orange to gloomy purple. "It's pretty," he gestured to the sky with his head.

"Yeah." Her voice was barely above a whisper and she wasn't even sure if he had heard her, but it didn't really matter.

"You're leaving him." It wasn't a question; he already knew the answer.

Boston didn't bother looking away from the skyline. She didn't want to see the disapproval that she knew was running rampant in her brother's eyes.

"You're being childish." His voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it that caught Boston off guard.

Boston finally turned to look at Cy. He met her eyes. They stared at each other for a moment, but Boston wasn't willing to be the one who looked away first. It was a stupid competition, she knew, but they'd been doing it since they were kids. And she just didn't want to lose. Finally, Cy looked away.

"This is the most adult thing I've ever done." Their eyes met again but it wasn't a challenge this time.

"People make mistakes, B. Don't let his mistake ruin what you guys have."

"I would have forgiven him for missing Christmas, for not defending me, for not knowing me. I would have forgiven him for everything." She let out a sad laugh. "He could have literally done anything, _anything_ but this, and I would've got over it. But he had go and kiss her. _Her._" She was getting worked up, so she gave herself a moment to calm down. She began again in a calmer tone, "I can't forgive him for that. He doesn't deserve to be forgiven and I deserve more than being second fiddle."

"He's not like Dad."

Boston's head snapped up from where she had been previously studying her shoes. She could feel her heart speed up, her breathing quicken, and her jaw clench; all outward sides of her inner fury. She couldn't believe that he was bringing this up. They had never, _ever_, talked about it; that had been the unspoken rule.

"Dad has nothing to do with this," she snarled.

Cy squinted at her, as if he was seeing her for the first time. "You really don't see it, do you?"

"Just stop talking."

"Have you ever told Mac about what Dad did?"

"It's not relevant."

"It is." There was a mutual silence, but only for a minute before Cy broke it again, "I told him."

"What?" Boston thought she knew what he meant, but she desperately hoped that she was completely off base.

"I called Mac and told him about how Dad cheated on Mom," he said defiantly, looking her straight in the eyes. "It is relevant and if his wife wasn't going to tell him, then someone else needed to."

Jumping to her feet, Boston shoved her hands into her coat pockets. "You had no right. No right. You're supposed to be on _my_ side. _He _cheated on me. _He_ didn't defend me. _He _picked work over me. I did nothing wrong and _you_ are supposed to know that."

Cy took a step back from Boston's sharp words. Blinking twice, he looked at her with a worried expression. "I do know that. I love you, B and I was just trying to help. I was trying to be a good brother." He straightened his body into a confident stance and tacked on, "And I'd do it again."

She took a second to think about what he said, before turning on her heel and heading back in the house. Before she was all the way in, he heard her say, "You're not my brother anymore."

* * *

January 5th. Today was only the third holiday that Mac and Boston had spent apart. The first being Christmas, when he had chosen work over his family and destroyed his marriage in the span of eight hours.

New Years had been harder than Mac expected. The year before, he'd spent the night with Boston. They had stayed in, ordered pizza, and watched the fireworks that lit the sky over Central Park from the balcony. Then they had headed inside to make some fireworks of their own. This year he'd spent it at the lab, ignoring concerned looks from Lindsey.

He'd forgotten that today was a holiday. He'd been blissfully ignorant until he'd looked at the small calendar that Boston had hung in the kitchen, above the phone, just days before Christmas. Each month had a picture of a different president and Boston had gone through and marked the birthdays, inauguration days, and death dates for each president. Under today's date, in Boston's tiny, curly, scribble was

_Calvin Coolidge_

_30__th__ Pres. (1923-1929)_

_Died Jan. 5__th__, 1933_

Mac let his fingers glide over her handwriting. He knew then and there, that if Boston never came back to him, he'd keep this calendar forever. He'd put it in a box and shove it in the back of the closet, next to an old beach ball.

* * *

Mac rapped three quick knocks. Then he waited. He wasn't sure what he was going to say. He wasn't sure if she'd answer the door. He wasn't sure if _he wanted_ her to answer. But he did know that he had to do this. If there was any hope of salvaging his marriage, then he had to do this.

She answered after a long moment with a shocked, "Mac." They both stood there in silence, neither knowing what to say.

Finally a tiny voice interrupted them. "Daddy!" Gabe came hurtling at Mac and attached himself to Mac's legs.

Turning his attention to Gabe, Mac pried his son off his legs and lifted him up with ease. "Hey buddy. How's your arm?"

"It itches." Not wanting to worry his father, Gabe quickly added, "But I can handle it."

Mac gave a smile. "I know you can."

"Is Boston back?" Gabe looked over Mac's shoulder, like Boston may be hiding just around the corner.

"No," Mac said sadly. "Not yet."

"Oh."

Mac could tell that Gabe was walking a fine line between holding it together and having a meltdown. "But she's misses you. And she told me she loved your card." That was a lie. They hadn't spoken since the day she'd left. The only communication they'd had was when Boston texted him once a day to give him an update on Claire. But he knew it was true. He knew she'd loved Gabe's card, so it wasn't _really_ a lie.

"What's in the bag?" Gabe asked, pointing to the small shopping bag in his hand.

Mac handed it to Gabe with a smile. "Open it up and find out."

Reaching into the bag, Gabe pulled out a picture book. Peyton leaned closer to read the title over Gabe's shoulder. "Calvin Coolidge?"

"Who's that?" Gabe asked, opening it up to look at the pictures.

"He was a President," Mac said.

"How about your dad reads it to you before your nap?" Peyton suggested.

"Yeah?" Gabe looked at Mac eagerly.

"Yeah," Mac nodded and set Gabe back on the ground. "Go get ready and I'll come and tuck you in. But I need to talk to your mom first."

Mac and Peyton watched him scamper away. There was silence again. Finally Mac couldn't take it anymore. Sucking in a breath, he straightened up. It was now or never. "We need to talk."

Nodding once, Peyton opened the door wider and stepped aside to let Mac inside. "Would you like some tea? Or coffee?" Peyton asked, ringing her hands. It was clear she was looking for something, anything, to allow her to stall.

But Mac wanted to get straight to the point. "No. Let's sit."

Once they were both sitting opposite each other at the kitchen table, Mac suddenly wished he had let her stall. _No_, he steeled himself. He had to do this. "I was going to propose," he started slowly. "After I got back from London, I went and bought a ring and planned everything out. I was going to take you to Tavern on the Green and then a carriage ride through Central Park. Everything was planned; I was just waiting for you to come back. But you never did."

"Mac?" Her voice was quiet. Her expression was questioning.

"You had your chance, Peyton. But you stayed in London and eventually I moved on."

"Why are you doing this?"

"I'm not trying to hurt you. But I need you to know that there is _nothing_ between us anymore."

"You kissed me, Mac. I didn't make the first move. And I resent being made the bad guy."

Mac agreed. "You're completely right." Peyton looked up at Mac, startled by his concurrence. "I know that it was my fault. And Boston knows it, too. I take complete responsibility for the kiss. But you need to take responsibility for your attitude towards Boston. It was uncalled for and I won't stand for it."

"What attitude?"

"C'mon, Peyton, don't play dumb." Mac leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "You know how you talked to Boston."

"She broke Gabe's arm and was completely irresponsible."

"She didn't break his arm," Mac shouted. "The kid's four. He should know not to jump off couches." Taking a moment to reign in his emotions, he took a deep breath. "I didn't come here to fight," he said calmly. "Just know that you can never talk to her like that again."

"You can't control how I feel."

"I'm not asking you to be her best friend. Hell, you don't even have to like her. But you need to respect her...She matters to me and she's going to be in Gabe's life whether you like it or not."

"I'm waiting!" a very impatient Gabe called from his room.

Mac stared at Peyton for a few more moments before sliding the chair back and pushing himself up. He was halfway out of the kitchen before Peyton stopped him. "Do you think she'll come back?"

He didn't turn around and didn't bother answering. He wasn't sure, but that wasn't any of Peyton's business. Instead, he continued on down the hallway to read a story to his son.

* * *

Boston shoved the small box into the car beside her duffel bag. The box had come in the mail earlier in the week. Without even opening it, she'd known it was from Mac. Sneaking down to the storm cellar, her favorite place to escape as a kid, she debated internally for over an hour whether to open it, while Claire slept happily next to her. Finally she'd mustered enough strength to cut open the box. On top was a small purple elephant, which Claire hadn't put down since. Next was a card clearly made by Gabe. On the cover were several multicolored blobs and scribbles and inside, in Gabe's child handwriting, it read _I Mis You Bosston, Lov Gabe Ian Taylorr_.

The last item in the box had been the one thing that Boston wasn't sure if she wanted to see. Placed neatly at the bottom was a sheet of paper folded in thirds. She wasn't sure that she wanted to read his remorseful and pitiful words. Writing letters had always been Mac's way of apologizing and Boston had a whole drawer full of his sorrowful notes. But no matter what he said, she wasn't sure she was ready to listen. Finally, bracing herself, she cautiously unfolded the letter. A sob escaped her lips when she read the three small words written at the top left corner of the page. _I'm so sorry_.

Slamming the trunk, Boston took one last look around to make sure she'd gotten everything. Finding that it was all safely in the car, she gave one last look at her childhood home.

There was always something about being in her childhood home that made Boston feel like a kid again. It didn't matter that she had her own kid now. Her parents still bossed her around. Her brothers still thought it was funny to throw food at her. Her entire family still viewed her as the awkward thirteen year old girl who knew all the words to every Mariah Carey song.

Part of her was comforted by their easy knowledge of her. She had come back home to be around people who really knew her. But now that she was here, she wasn't sure how well her family really did know the person she was today. She didn't like Mariah Carey anymore; she no longer read Judy Blume books, and her subscription to _Seventeen_ had expired ages ago.

Her family didn't know her, Mac didn't know her. She was all alone. And maybe that's why it hurt so much.

* * *

A/N: I promise to update more regularly if y'all review (yep – I'm not above bribery!). Thanks for reading.


	38. Discussions and Confessions

A/N: Thanks to **jessie** for the review! I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

Disclaimer: All I own is Boston.

* * *

"Boston?" he asked, sitting up straighter in his chair. She was calling him. For the first time in almost two weeks, she was reaching out to him, and he wasn't going about to mess it up. "Boston?" he asked again frantically when she hadn't replied.

When she did start speaking, her voice was rushed and Mac could tell she was panicking. _"The car broke down. And it's starting to snow. And it's dark. And – "_

Mac was already out of his seat and pulling on his jacket when he cut her off, "Are you and Claire alright?"

Her tone was gentler this time. _"Yeah. We're both fine."_

"Where are you at?" Pushing opening his office door with a little too much gusto, he walked purposefully to the elevator and tapped the down button impatiently.

_"Just outside Clearfield, Pennsylvania."_ Her voice sounded dejected, and that worried Mac. Sighing, she said, _"I don't know why I called you."_

Mac ignored the sting in his heart. "Boston. I'm coming. I'm leaving right now. That's, what, four or five hours away?"

She was quiet again. After a few moments, she agreed. _"Yeah. But, really, I'm just overreacting."_

"No," he said firmly. "I'm already in the truck. Did you already call for a tow truck?"

He thought she was going to object again, but she surprised him when she didn't argue. _"Yeah. They said they'd be here in an hour."_

"An hour? Are you sure you and Claire are all right?"

_"We're fine. She's asleep."_

Mac forced the image of his baby girl out of his head. He'd get to see her in four hours and right now he needed to focus on the road. "Make sure you both stay warm."

_"Will you stay on the phone with me until they come?"_ she said so softly that Mac had to strain to hear her. _"It's dark. And I'm scared ... I ... I need you."_

Pressing his foot down harder on the accelerator, his grip tightened on the steering wheel. He'd spent the last two weeks dreaming that she'd say those words to him. But now they just made him feel helpless. "I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

Deafening silence. Boston had never really understood the saying. How could silence be deafening? It had never made sense to her. Until now.

She and Mac had been on the phone for thirty minutes and twenty-five of those minutes had been spent in complete silence. She could hear his even breathing and was startled by how much it comforted her. It was like he was sitting right next to her, keeping her safe.

She wasn't sure what had possessed her to call him. But she'd been standing outside, it was dark and cold and she could picture a trucker pulling over and chopping her up into tiny pieces. And at that moment all she could think about was how much she wanted, needed, Mac. She wanted him to hold her, to save her from homicidal truck drivers, to call the repair shop, to talk to her while they waited. She just wanted him.

Biting her lip to stop herself from crying, Boston pulled the blanket tighter, further wrapping it around herself and Claire.

_"You bite your lip when you're nervous."_

Mac's quiet words jarred her from her thoughts. Being careful not to disturb Claire, she turned around in the seat, but there was nobody in sight. Then Boston realized that he had just _known_ that she was nervous.

She was about to question him, when he continued on is a slow, steady tone, _"Your favorite color's yellow because it reminds you of sunflowers. You think vanilla ice cream's boring. Your biggest regret in life is that you hurt your knee and can't play soccer professionally. You relate most to Charlotte from _Sex and the City_, but you like Carrie's clothes better. Sometimes you'll laugh to stop from crying. You think _Lifetime_ movies are cheesy, but you always get sucked into them. You cry whenever you read about Abraham Lincoln's assassination. You worry that one day Gabe will resent you. You worry that I'm going to leave you for Peyton."_ She heard him take a breath. _"I know you, Bos. I know who you are."_

This wasn't what she wanted to hear. She didn't want to hear his loving words that made her want to pull him in for a kiss. She wanted him to say that he didn't love her anymore, that he was picking Peyton. She'd made her decision and this definitely wasn't making it easier on her.

_"Your brother told me about your Dad."_ His voice was hesitant, like he knew that he was crossing a line.

"Yeah, well, he should have never mentioned it," Boston snapped.

Not one to be deterred, Mac pressed on. _"No, you should've."_

"It was none of your business."

_"I'm your husband!"_ Boston was taken aback by the harshness of Mac's voice. She always hated when he yelled at her. It made her feel like she was twelve years old. _"I'm sorry, Boston. I have never regretted anything more in my life. It will never happen again, I can promise you that."_

"Is that what you told Claire?" Boston's hand shot up to cover her mouth. The words slipped out before she could think about them. Mac had been honest about the time he kissed another woman while married to Claire, and to this day, Boston knew that he deeply regretted the unfaithful act. She had never meant to hold that over his head, but now that the words were out, she didn't know how to take them back.

Silence engulfed them once again. When Mac finally spoke, his voice was eerily lifeless. And the thought that he had given up on their marriage was scarier than Boston was willing to admit. _"For better or for worse. Till death do us part. You said those words and promised me forever."_

Boston cut him off with a raised voice, "That doesn't give you free reign to fuck anyone you want behind my back."

_"It was one kiss and I'm sorry!"_ he yelled. _"I'm sorry. I. Am. Sorry. I don't know how else to tell you that."_

"What do you want me to do, Mac? Whether you're sorry or not, you cheated."

_"I want you to fight! I want you to stop pushing me and your family away. I want you to take your vows seriously. You promised me forever and then you ran away at the first sign of trouble."_

Boston didn't know what to say. She knew she'd ran away, but at the time, she'd had to leave. She couldn't stay in New York for one more minute. After a minute and a deep breath, she spoke her most private apprehension in a small voice, "I'm not sure I'm strong enough to forgive you."

Without missing a beat, Mac replied, _"Well, lucky for you, I _know_ you are."_

* * *

The tow truck had arrived seconds after Mac whispered his response to Boston's concerns. She'd hung up before he'd gotten the chance to say _I love you._ Then again, maybe that's for the best. He wasn't sure that she would've said it back. And he wasn't sure that he'd be able to handle that, handle such a painfully obvious display of the shambles that was their relationship.

Mac pushed the thoughts out of his head as he entered the Clearfield city limits. Pressing a few buttons on his phone, he retrieved the directions to the motel that Boston had texted him an hour ago. The Stand Inn. It sounded like some twenty dollar dive motel that was built during World War II. Boston and Claire didn't deserve to stay in some shady shithole. His girls deserved to stay at the Hilton with fresh linen and room service and fluffy robes that Boston would want to steal.

They shouldn't have even been in Pennsylvania alone in the first place. He should have been there to drive, to help with Claire, to fix the car, to call the mechanic, to get the motel. He should have been there. He'd let his wife take his newborn baby halfway across the country. _What the fuck, Mac? What the fuck were you thinking?_ He should've made her stay. He should've gone after her. He should've fought for her.

"Goddamn it, Mac," he mumbled and slammed his hands on the steering wheel. He knew he was losing her. This could be his last chance to win her back and prove to her that he could change.

Even if Boston did give him a second chance, they'd have a long road ahead of them. He'd have to show her that he'd be there for her and be faithful. She'd have to learn to let him in and confide in him. The future was uncertain, but Mac knew that it would certainly be hard.

Coming back to reality, he made a hard left into the motel's parking lot. He'd been right, it was a dump. The lights on the sign were partially burned out, so it read _The STD Inn_. He would've laughed if he hadn't been focused on the fact that in forty-five seconds he was going to see his daughter. Pulling into the space just outside room 18, Mac put the truck into park, turned off the ignition and sat.

These last two weeks had been harder on him than he'd ever admit to anyone. It wasn't just the fact that his entire marriage was up in the air, but also the fact that he knew he was missing precious days of his baby's life. The first night that they'd brought Claire home, Mac had stood over her crib and made a vow to her that he wouldn't miss out on her life like he had with Gabe. Less than forty-eight hours later, he'd broken that vow when he'd picked work over Christmas with his family. He couldn't go back and fix the past, but he could start fresh and give his family the attention that they deserved.

* * *

There was something surreal about answering the door and seeing Mac in his work wardrobe. Boston was wearing jeans, a plain white shirt, and Claire was propped on her hip. It felt too normal, like she was greeting her husband after a long day apart. Their greeting was awkward and she felt saddened when Mac asked for permission to hold Claire. As soon as he took a hold of her, Boston could see his breath quicken, she knew he was trying to control his emotions. He'd hugged Claire close, kissed her hair, and whispered words of love to her.

As she watched Claire and Mac reconnect, Boston started to think maybe her brother was right. Cy had said that she was acting childish and at the time she'd thought he was defending Mac's actions. But now she realized that she wasn't any better than Peyton. She'd pushed Mac away and kept him away from his daughter, just like Peyton had done with Gabe. She, better than anyone, knew all the inner turmoil that he'd gone through and the vast amount of regret that he felt for missing even a minute of Gabe's life. And despite knowing this, she still had taken Claire away from him.

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

Mac looked up from where he'd been making Claire's stuffed animal dance. "What?"

Biting her lip, she looked down at her hands. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken Claire away from you. It wasn't fair, for either of you."

Shaking his head, Mac said, "Well, I didn't really help the situation.

"We're both at fault," Boston whispered.

She could feel Mac's eyes on her as she sat on the corner of the bed. He voice was soft and hesitant when he finally spoke, as if he didn't really want to know the answer to his question. "What do you want, Bos?"

Looking up, she met his eyes but ignored his question. "Do you have feelings for her?"

"No." The hesitation was gone in his voice.

"Maybe she'd be better for you," she said slowly. "You guys have work in common. She understands your hours. She's only, what, eight years younger than you? That counts for something. She's not a smartass like me – "

"Exactly," Mac cut her off. "She's not a smartass like you. She's doesn't make me laugh, like you. She doesn't make me try new things. She doesn't challenge me. She doesn't teach me things. I can't talk to her like I can with you. I tell you things, Boston, things I've never told anyone. I open up to you."

Moving across the room to where Claire's portable crib was set up, Mac gently placed the now sleeping baby into the bed. He then crossed the room and kneeled in front of Boston. "I am deeply sorry for everything I did that day. I was angry. We had fought that morning and then Gabe broke his arm and...I was just angry and it just happened. It was stupid and I regretted it the second it happened."

"I can't trust you."

"I know," Mac said softly. "That's my problem. You don't ever have to trust me again, but know that I'm going to spend the rest of my life proving to you that I'm trustworthy."

After a few minutes of silence, Boston reached into her back pocket and pulled out a key. "I got you a separate room."

She heard Mac sigh and snatch the key from her hand. He was silent as he walked over and gave Claire another kiss. When he finally spoke, he was almost back to the door. "I'm trying here, Bos. But I can't save our marriage by myself." Pausing, he took a deep breath, steadying himself. "More than anything, I just want you to be happy. And that's clearly not with me. So, I'm letting you go." And with that, he walked out the door.

* * *

Mac awoke sometime in the middle of the night to knocking at his door. He hadn't even realized he'd fallen asleep. After Boston had kicked him out, he'd spent the rest of the evening reliving their entire relationship. He wasn't sure how'd he survive without her. In the past two years he'd gotten accustomed to her being in his life. How would he live without her laughter? Without their weekly movie nights? Without hearing about Abraham Lincoln every day?

The knocking persisted, so Mac pushed off the covers and walked quickly for the door. Not bothering to look through the peephole, he pulled open the door and came face to face with a crying Boston and a screaming Claire.

"I can't do this alone," Boston gasped. "She won't stop crying and I don't know what's wrong...I need you."

For the second time that night, that short phrase shocked Mac. Except unlike the first time, he could actually do something immediately to help Boston. He gently took Claire from her and started to gently rub the baby's back. Claire instantly settled down and stared dreamily up at her father's face.

Turning towards Boston, he saw the bags under her eyes. "When was the last time you slept?" A shrug of the shoulders was the only reply he got back. "Why don't you lay down. I'll take care of Claire for a while." He saw that she was about to object, so he added a _Please_ and she finally consented.

She was out as soon as her head hit the pillow. And Mac watched her sleep, knowing that this was probably the last time he'd be able to. He was dedicated to cementing her image in his mind. The curve of her nose, the angle of her jaw, the arc where her neck met her shoulder.

After twenty minutes, she flipped onto her stomach and slipped her hand under the pillow to the cool side. Her eyes flicked open, and she started talking in a low, even tone. "It happened when I was fifteen. Me and Cy were the only kids living at home and one day my dad came home, packed a bag and left. My mom told us later that he'd been having an affair for over a year and was gong to live with the other woman. He came back six months later and begged my mom to take him back. But...he picked her over our family."

Mac nodded. He knew the story already, but somehow it was different hearing it come from her. "Why didn't you tell me?" He'd asked this question before, but was hoping for an answer this time.

"I don't talk to anyone about it. Not even Lindsey knows about it. I know I should have told you, but..."

"I'm not going to pick Peyton over you."

Boston gave him a small smile. "You already said that."

Shrugging, Mac smiled back. "And I'll keep saying it until you believe it."

They were both silent for several minutes, just gazing at each other. "Boston." She met his eyes. "I'm not asking for things to go back to the way they were. We can take things slow. I can move out for a while, that's fine. I'm just asking for you not to throw in the towel. I love you. I know we can work things out." She was quiet for far longer than Mac was comfortable with and he eventually added, "Talk to me, Bos."

"I'm so confused."

"About what?"

"Part of me is so angry at you. Part of me wants to give up, so I don't get hurt again. And part of me thinks I got too consumed in you. I don't know what I feel, Mac." Her speech quickened and she became animated with her hands. "I have all these conflicting thoughts. And my emotions are all over the place. I'm anxious all the time. And I just...It's too much, Mac. I feel like I'm drowning."

Mac grew and more and more concerned through Boston's speech. He tired to phrase his next statement as delicately as possible. "Maybe you should to talk to someone about that."

"I could have lunch with Linds and – "

"I meant a professional," Mac interrupted. "A therapist or your doctor."

He was sure that she was going to object, but was surprised when instead, she nodded her head. "Maybe you're right."

She appeared deep in thought, so Mac gave her some time. He wasn't sure where they stood. Half the time, she seemed like she wanted to work things out. And the other half, she was dead set on leaving him.

"Hey, Mac?" Her voice drew his attention. ""I don't want you to let me go. I wanna fight."

He let out a breath; one he'd been holding ever since she walked out. "Okay," he said with a grin.

Nodding her head, Boston smiled, too. "Okay. But I wanna do this slow. So, I'm gonna take Claire back to our room."

He walked them back to their room and stood awkwardly at the barrier. "Can we have breakfast together?" A strange feeling washed over him. Nerves. He was nervous about asking his wife out for breakfast, like it was their first date.

"Yeah," she smiled. "I'd like that. I better put her back to bed." She gestured toward Claire, who was drooling on her shoulder. Before he had time to leave, Boston reached up and gave him a kiss on the lips. It was short and chaste, but to Mac it felt as good and full of promise as their first kiss. He knew they had a long road ahead of them and they both had issues to work on, but he had faith in their relationship. "See ya tomorrow," Boston whispered, just before shutting the door.

_Tomorrow_, Mac thought. They had a tomorrow.

* * *


	39. Moving Forward

A/N: Sorry, sorry, sorry! Doesn't it always suck when real life interferes with fanfiction? But thanks so much to those who reviewed since the last chapter (**Stacey Powers**, **PainAlter041085**, and **RGK**)! It's what gives me motivation to get my butt in gear. And as a thank you, here is a super long chapter – and arguably my favorite chapter thus far. And I've already started the next chapter, so you, hopefully, won't have to wait a month for the next update (sorry!). Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing – just Boston, Gabe, and baby Claire.

* * *

Mac had always liked the early days of spring, the days in April where the mornings were brisk but easily warmed up to pleasant, balmy temperatures. The air was normally light, unlike the heavy, humid air of July where the only saving grave from the dog days of summer was a wild thunderstorm, pleating down cool raindrops. It was on these cool, spring evenings when Boston enjoyed sitting out on the balcony chatting with Mac while sipping a glass of iced tea. They didn't talk about anything profound. When they first began dating, they would sit out there for hours, enjoying the breeze, and talk about anything and everything, getting to know each other. Now, they talked about their days and made plans for the upcoming weeks. It was nice and familiar, but most importantly, it gave them a chance to reconnect as a couple.

The first months of this year had been trying on their marriage, as well as on Mac's sense of self. He'd been _this close_ to losing Boston. He had pushed her further and further until she was just mere inches from breaking. And that was something that often kept Mac awake at night. He'd spent endless hours thinking about why he'd kissed Peyton, why he'd let her walk all over his wife, and why he'd walked out on his family, choosing work over them.

He and Boston talked about these questions an infinite amount of times. He was so anxious to make her see that it wasn't in his nature to do these things. It'd been a fluke, a one-time thing. But she'd been resistant, almost hostile, about discussing the events. She said it didn't matter why he'd done it because it didn't change the fact that he had done it and she'd forgiven him, so they needed to move on.

But he hadn't bought it. She may have said she'd forgiven him, but there were moments, lots of moments, when he'd meet her eyes and only see anger and disgust written all over her face. In the weeks following her return from Nebraska, she didn't even bother hiding her loathing stares. But as the days stretched into weeks, and the weeks into months, the looks became shorter and fewer and far between. Now he only spotted the looks whenever Peyton dropped Gabe off, and it was usually more of a cringe, as if she'd just had a sour piece of candy.

But those first weeks had been horrible. Mac had pushed and pushed, until she'd finally broken down and talked about it. About how she felt about him, about Peyton, about being a mom and a stepmom. Finally, he'd broken through.

* * *

_"C'mon, Boston. Talk to me," Mac sighed._

_"We talk all the time, Mac." Boston threw her hands up in surrender. "All we do is talk and I'm tired of talking."_

_"No, I talk. You just sit there with glazed over eyes," Mac snapped._

_"What the hell do you want from me, Mac?" Rising to her feet, she pushed passed him with a bump of the shoulder, and stormed into the kitchen._

_Mac wasn't going to let her off that easily. He'd had enough of her blasé attitude. He so desperately wanted to save their marriage that he was going to go down swinging. If she wanted to go without a fight, that was her choice, but Mac was going to be damn sure that he'd done everything within his power to make it work, even if that meant pissing her off._

_When he entered the kitchen, seconds after Boston, she was already elbow deep in a sink full of bubbles, scrubbing just a tab too hard on a perfectly clean plate._

_"I want you to talk to me." He knew he should soften his tone, but he was too angry to care._

_"What the fuck do you want to hear?" she screamed, slamming the plate back into the sink, causing the water to slosh over and coat the counter with a thin layer of soap._

_She turned her body to face him, and Mac could see the anger running wild in her eyes. "You wanna hear about much I hate you? How I think Peyton's a whore and that I resent Gabe for coming into our life at a time when it should have been all about us?"_

_He nodded dumbly, taken off guard by her honest words._

"_Well, it's true Mac. I hate our life. I hate your job. I hate that I don't play soccer anymore. I hate that you don't play at Cozy's. I hate that we got married so soon and that we had a baby right away. I hate that you were married before and had a kid with someone else. I hate that I'm just another one of your women. I hate that I don't work and that I'm a fucking housewife." She snarled the next words in a venomous tone that Mac was sure he'd never forget, "And I blame you for it all."_

"_It's not all my fault."_

"_If you wouldn't have kissed that bitch, we'd be fine."_

"_Really?" Mac scoffed. "Because you just said that you hated that I was married before, and that has nothing to do with Peyton."_

"_She has everything to do with this. You fucking kissed her! You ruined us."_

"_No," Mac roared. "You ruined us by not talking to me. You keeping secrets from me is what's ruining us."_

"_Me keeping secrets? That's rich," Boston laughed. "You practically invented secrets. You kissed someone else."_

"_And I told you about it!"_

"_Well, let's give you a fucking medal. You kissed another woman, but it's okay since you told me about it."_

"_Get over it! I'm sor – " Mac didn't see the plate as it came hurtling towards his head, only heard it shatter on the wall inches away from his face, and felt the burn as a stray piece sliced through his skin, just inches from his left eye. He could feel the blood sliding down the side of his face to his neck and down to his shirt._

_He looked up to see Boston frozen in place next to the sink. Her eyes were wide with horror and her right hand, her throwing hand, covered her mouth. She didn't move an inch as Mac made his way beside her to catch his reflection in the microwave door._

"_It'll need stitches," he said quietly after a few seconds of eyeing the wound._

_Still looking in the reflection, he saw her nod and then mumble, "I'll go see if Brittany can watch Claire."_

_He turned to her and forced himself to speak in an indifferent tone. "I can go alone."_

"_No." Her voice was sharp and her tone left no room for discussion. She didn't wait for his response, she was already crossing the living room before he could mutter an _Okay.

_She was back in minutes, trailed by the fresh faced eighteen year old that lived next door and eagerly watched Claire on the rare occasion that Boston slipped away for a few hours to do errands._

"_Oh my god!" she said as soon as she saw Mac. "Mr. Taylor, are you okay? That's a lot of blood. Were you hurt in the line of duty? Were you shot at?"_

_Shaking his head, Mac pulled on his jacket. "Just an accident."_

_Boston quickly checked on Claire, gave Brittany the rundown of where everything was, and slipped the girl a twenty to order some pizza, before she finally made her to the door without so much as a glance in Mac's direction._

_The drive to the hospital was silent. The three hours in the waiting room were silent. The additional hour in the hospital room was silent. The drive back home was silent._

_It was well past midnight when they entered the parking garage of their apartment. Just as they were getting off the elevator onto their floor, Boston mumbled that she would take care of sending Brittany off and Mac should go straight to bed. He didn't have the energy to argue with her. He could already feel the light pain meds the doctor had given him wearing off revealing a thunderous headache. He was out as soon as head it the pillow._

_When he awake the next morning, the bed was empty beside him. Frowning, he looked at the clock. 5:48. Much too early for Boston to willing be up. The baby monitor had been removed from its usual perch between the alarm clock and his cell phone. She hadn't come to bed, he knew._

_He slipped on a pair of running pants over his boxes and made his way to check on Claire as he pulled on a plain black t-shirt. The room was full of soft breathing sounds and the sweet baby scent that dazzled Mac. But there was only one girl in the room._

_He watched Claire sleep for a few minutes before he laid a gentle kiss on the top of her head and went on to search for Boston._

_The rest of the house turned up empty and for one fleeting, horrifying minute, Mac thought she'd left. He'd pushed her too far and she'd thrown in the towel leaving him to be a single father of two. But then, just as the realization struck him, he glanced through the living room and saw the sliding glass door that lead to the balcony. The vertical blinds were pulled back just enough that he could make out the curve of an elbow jetting out from the side of one of their chairs._

_It was Boston, he knew, because of the soft pink scar that ran from the top of her right shoulder to the bottom of her elbow. She'd gotten it during a car accident, the same accident that crushed her left her knee and trampled all her dreams of playing soccer professionally._

_Mac replayed their conversation from last night over in his head. She had mentioned something about blaming him for why she didn't play anymore. He tried to think back to the last time she had played. It was back before he'd been shot. She'd given up everything to be by his side during his recovery, and at the time he'd been too consumed with his own feelings to realize that. Then there had been wedding plans and she'd gotten pregnant and now here he was, standing a year later, realizing that the person he cared for more than anything in the world had given up her passion for him. And he'd let her._

_Slipping out through the doors and onto the balcony, he wordlessly took a seat in the other chair. They sat in silence for what felt like hours, but could have been just minutes. He wasn't going to push her this time. This time it would be on her terms. So, instead, Mac took a moment to really enjoy the view in front of him._

_They lived just high enough that they could see above the treetops and see a large portion of Central Park and the buildings that surrounded it. It still early enough that sun had not yet began to peak over the top of the skyscrapers, but a few stray rays had snuck through the spaces between concrete. It had snowed early in the week, leaving the thousands of trees in the park dusted with a light covering of winter._

_Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Boston reach up and brush her bangs away from her eyes. She was wearing the same the outfit she'd worn yesterday, her favorite pair of jeans, now clad with a few droplets of his own blood, a plain white blouse, a green zip up hooded sweater, and her oldest pair of Converse sneakers adorned her feet. She looked more like a woman just out of college, than the mother and wife that she was. If she'd been sitting out here all night, she definitely wasn't wearing the clothes that could provide her with any warmth._

"_Do you want a blanket?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He wasn't even sure if she could hear him over the busy streets below._

_But she did hear him. She let out a laugh, not her usual booming snicker and not her sarcastic snort. This laugh was sad and full of misery. "I'm a terrible person."_

"_No," Mac said, turning to face her. "You're a good person."_

_She didn't look at him, only continued to look out over the city. "I said all those horrible things last night. How does that make me a good person?"_

"_You didn't tell me anything that I didn't already know." Reaching over, Mac gently tapped the side of her knee. "You're not mad about the kiss."_

_Boston turned to glance at him for the first time. A look of disbelief washed over her features and her eyebrows shot up in a bemused look._

_Mac quickly appended his statement, "I mean, you are. And you have every right to be angry at me." He chose his next words carefully, "But, I think what you're really mad about is that I broke all your dreams."_

_Boston shook her head and was about to object when Mac interrupted, "No, Bos, hear me out. You gave up everything to be with me. You think I don't know that? You had all these dreams about what your life and your husband and your marriage were going to be like. You didn't dream about being with a widower who's almost twenty years your senior. You dreamed about living five miles away from your parents in a big house with white picket fences. You dreamed about being married for a couple of years before you got pregnant and then for your husband to be the father of _only_ your babies. Your husband would have a nine to five job with weekends off and you'd take vacations to sunny places. Those are great dreams, Bos." Mac reached up, forcing her chin up, and looked into her eyes. "But I can't give you any of those dreams. The only thing I could give you was being the father of only your kids. And then Gabe came along and I broke that dream, the last dream."_

_She was silent for a long moment before she finally asked, "Where do we go from now?"_

_Mac was glad she hadn't tried to object to his observations. "Well, we can go our separate ways. You could go and find someone who can make all your dreams come true."_

"_Or?"_

"_Or, we can make new dreams. Together."_

_She thought about it for longer than Mac would have liked, but finally she leaned over and laced their fingers together. "I like option two better."_

_In all the days of his life, Mac would never forget the surge of emotion that washed over him as she said those five little words and crashed her lips down on his. It was a real kiss with real emotion, their first real kiss in months, and it seemed to last forever._

_When they finally pulled apart, Boston let out a laugh. It was giddy and animated and Mac was sure he'd never heard anything more beautiful than her voice at that moment. "I love you."_

* * *

Mac gripped the leash in his left hand a little tighter as he thought about that night. It certainly hadn't completely fixed their problems, but it had proved to be a bend in their road. There were still discussions and long talks and even screaming and yelling, but it was nothing like what transpired that night. They had taken divorce off the table, it was no longer an option. They could now discuss their future and be brutally honest without fearing that any little misstep would send the other one packing.

They'd come to a few consensus in their time back together. First and foremost, any decision concerning Gave would be made by the three of them: Peyton, Mac, _and_ Boston. Mac had easily agreed to the idea, knowing full well that if he was going to be the best father he could, Boston needed to be by his side.

She balanced him out. Where he was hot headed and lost his temper, she was consistent and positive. Where he couldn't look beyond the irritating whining, she truly listened. Where he got overwhelmed, she was undeterred.

It was plain as day in his mind that Boston would be involved all in the decision making when it came to Gabe's life. But getting Peyton to recognize this proved to be difficult. She'd been openly hostile to all Boston's thoughts and suggestions when it came to Gabe. Peyton had blatantly disregarded all the information that Boston had passed on to her about Kindergarten programs in the City. She'd had taken one look at the addresses of the schools, realized that most were located close to Mac and Boston's apartment, and then went on a tangent about how _her_ son would to a school routed in the British school of education. Mac may have brushed off the incident as Peyton's natural maternal instinct to keep her son close, had he not known how many hours Boston had put into researching different programs and figuring out which ones were most compatible with Gabe's personality and skill set. And buried deep within the packet of information Boston had created that Peyton had thrown out, without so much as a second glance, were the stats for five different international schools.

Ironically, it had been Mac's mother who provided the most insight into the inner workings of Peyton's mind. Marie had let out a boisterous laugh and a rousing _Well, can you blame her?_, when Mac had briefly recapped the incident for her.

* * *

_"Yes, I can blame her," Mac scoffed. "She's acting like a little kid who's worried that Boston's gonna steal her toys."_

_He could practically hear Marie shake her head. "No, she's acting like Boston's gonna steal her son."_

_"Boston only wants what's best for Gabe," Mac objected._

_"I know that. And you know that. But Peyton doesn't know that. She doesn't know Boston at all."_

_"And whose fault it that?"_

_"Mac," Marie gently scolded her son. "I know this is hard for you to understand, but you can't expect Peyton to trust Boston to make life altering decisions for Gabe when she's only known Boston for six months."_

_"But she trusts me with making decisions for him."_

_"You're his father."_

_"And Boston's my wife," Mac insisted._

_"But she's not Gabe's anything," Marie said gently._

_"She's his stepmom and she loves him," Mac snapped._

_"No one's questioning her love. But you have to look at this from Peyton's point of view. Boston is her competition. Put yourself in Peyton's shoes for a second. What if you and Boston were to spilt, heaven forbid, and she remarried. How would you feel, Claire having a stepfather who came along and tried to make all the decisions?"_

_"She's not trying to make all the decisions. She just wants her opinion to be heard."_

_"Answer the question, Mac," Marie pressed. "How would you feel?"_

_"If I knew the other guy had Claire's interest at heart, I'd be fine with it."_

_"Please!" Marie laughed. "You are many things, Mac, but a lair isn't one of them. You would go berserk, probably run the guy through some database and arrest him for an unpaid parking ticket, and then pin a murder on him."_

_Mac ignored the statement, mostly because he knew it was true. "They just need to get to know each other."_

_"Don't push it."_

_"What? It's not too much to ask?"_

_"Neither one of them should be forced to get to know the other."_

_"Well, Peyton – "_

_"No, Mac," Marie interrupted. "I'm not just talking about Peyton. Boston shouldn't be forced to get to know Peyton either. She's your ex, and you kissed her, and because of that, Boston should get the chance to choose when and how she gets to know Peyton. Because, don't forget son, in Boston's world, Peyton is _her_ competition."_

* * *

The more Mac got to thinking about it, the more he realized that his mother was right, although he'd never tell her that, it'd go straight to her head.

Both Peyton and Boston had valid arguments. Boston, on the one hand, deserved to have her thoughts heard. As far as Mac was concerned, she was more than just a stepmom. They had known Gabe for literally the exact same amount of time. The moment that Mac became a dad, Boston had become a stepmom. She was the one who'd been by his side the first day he'd met Gabe, and one day in the far future he knew that Gabe would realize that fact and look at Boston in a different light. Sure, she wasn't Gabe's biological mother, but she was more than his stepmother. And while the distinction between stepmom and more than a stepmom was crystal clear in his eyes, Mac knew that Peyton didn't see the difference. Boston would forever be _just_ a stepmom, in Peyton's eyes.

But, Mac now realized, Peyton wasn't completely invalid in her reservations toward Boston. Because, whether or not he liked to admit it, he knew it must be hard for Peyton, to have another female in Gabe's life. Though he'd never divulge this to Boston, it would crush her, sometimes even he worried that her colorful and upbeat personality would outshine he's more reserved personality, leaving him a distant second in Gabe's eyes. And if he worried about this, Mac knew that the thought must have entered Peyton's mind.

So now, Mac was stuck straddling a fine line between the two women. The situation was difficult for all parties involved, and he had a feeling that it wasn't going to get easier anytime soon.

* * *

"C'mon, Dad!" Gabe's disgruntled voice pulled Mac out of his thoughts. "The game's about to start and Boston will think we're not here."

"She knows we're coming," Mac reassured him but picked up the pace to appease the boy.

One of the other agreements Boston and Mac had made was to pick back up with their hobbies. Mac had started to play at Cozy's on the Saturdays when Gabe stayed with Peyton. Boston would usually get a babysitter to watch Claire and then meet him at the bar for a date night. These evenings were cherished by them both as a chance to hang out as friends. They'd spend the evening laughing and sipping drinks with Mac's band mates, playing footsie under the table, and stretching out the short walk home as long as possible, sneaking into alley openings and making out for a few minutes until Mac finally pulled away and suggested that they continue this in the privacy of their bedroom.

And with accordance to their agreement, Boston had started playing soccer again. It wasn't the same team she'd played with before, she'd tried out for that team but had been cut. He knew that had come as a huge blow to her ego. She tried to brush it off with a shrug and a mumbled _I'll get 'em next time_, but later that night he'd heard her in the shower crying. Mac hadn't said anything to her about it, she'd be embarrassed, he knew. But, she found, lying next to her pillow the next morning, a list of other leagues in Mac's familiar scrawl.

* * *

_Boston ran her hand over the sheet of paper. She should've known Mac would do something like this, he was too keen to have not picked up on her attitude last night. She tried to put on a brave face and write the whole thing off with a shrug and a joke, but deep down, however, had been another story._

_She was pissed that she'd let herself go. Once upon a time, she'd taken great pride in her body. She'd ate right and exercised regularly. She'd never had the body of a star athlete or supermodel, but she'd like the one she did have and knew that Mac had enjoyed it too. But a year of not playing at all, except the few times she'd kicked the ball around on her own, and having a baby, where she'd definitely let herself enjoy the task of eating for two, had left her far from tiptop shape._

_She'd been embarrassed, humiliated even, when she'd returned to the apartment yesterday after tryouts to an eagerly awaiting Mac and Gabe. She'd muttered something about the tough competition and trying out again next year before heading to the shower and bawling her eyes out. Mac hadn't brought the subject back up, but when they'd made love later that night, it'd been slow and sensual and he'd practically worshiped her body, lathering it with kisses and tracing every speck of skin with the pads of his fingers._

_She'd spent the rest of last night silently consoling herself that while she hadn't made the team, at least Mac didn't know how much it really hurt. But she should've known that he'd seen right through her façade. She'd awoken this morning and instead of being greeted by Mac's rugged features, she'd came face to face with two sheets of paper. The first sheet contained a list of several other soccer teams in the area, just like the one he'd given her when they'd first met. She'd smiled at the memory._

_But it was the second sheet she'd read three times. It was the second sheet that had made her feel cherished. And it was the second sheet that she'd carefully placed inside her nightstand, alongside all of his other love notes._

_You're still number one in my book._

_Love,_

_--Mac_

_Go get 'em, Tiger!_

* * *

"Da-ad!" Gabe groaned, stretching the word into two syllables. "The games already started." With that, he marched on, putting more and more distance between himself and his father.

"Stop, Gabe."

The boy stopped in his tracks, hearing the authority in Mac's voice. He stood rooted in place, waiting for Mac to catch up. His whole body was twitching with excitement and he kept glancing between his father and the field with wide eyes. He looked possessed and Mac knew he was debating whether to make a break for it. Finally, deciding that the potential punishment that his dad was sure to dole out wasn't worth the reward of sprinting the last hundred yards to the field, he turned his full attention to Mac and silently pled with his eyes for him to hurry up.

Forcing himself not to laugh, Mac pushed the stroller in front of him faster. The pain of waiting was obviously getting to Gabe and he didn't want his son to have a nervous breakdown here and now.

It took them ten minutes to reach the field and an additional fifteen minutes after that to get everyone settled. Gabe, wearing his favorite David Beckham jersey, sat between Mac's legs. He made grunting noises every now and then and occasionally stood up to demonstrate a certain move repeatedly until Mac reminded him that the game was still going on. Claire, sporting a pink polka dotted bucket hat, charmed the world from her perch in her daddy's arms. And lying next to Gabe was the newest addition to the Taylor family, Sully.

* * *

_"Gabe, just hurry up and pick – " before Mac could finish his statement, Boston drove her elbow into his rib._

_"Shut up," she hissed to him with a glare. Turning towards Gabe, she sent a reassuring smile and a playful wink. "Just ignore your dad, Gabe. Take your time, it's an important decision."_

_Nodding once, Gabe scooted down to examine the four dogs in front of him._

_"C'mon, Bos," Mac whispered in her ear. "We've been here for two hours." He was referring to the animal shelter they had brought Gabe to in order to choose his dog._

_Mac hadn't wanted to let him choose in the first place. He'd wanted to go pick out the dog, sans Gabe. This left all the important decision making to him and Boston, ensuring that they'd get the perfect, family friendly pup._

_But, no, that'd be too sensible for, free as a bird, Boston. She'd insisted on letting Gabe choose his own dog, citing some mumbo jumbo crap about creating a free thinking, independent child._

_Just as Mac was going to mumble something about never having a dog when he was a kid, Gabe interrupted him. He jumped to his feet and turned to face Boston and Mac with a confident expression. "I pick this one." He pointed directly at the dog that had caused Mac to send silent prayers to the Please-Don't-Let-My-Kid-Pick-That-Dog god._

_He was about to object when the shelter worker cut in. "Excellent choice, Mr. Taylor. Shall we go fill out the paperwork?"_

_Mac shook his head. "Maybe we should have it interact with Claire again."_

_"It's not an it! He has feelings, too," Gabe said._

"_Mac," Boston said gently, "he already passed the family test. It looks like he's the newest Taylor." She let her hand fall from Mac's and kneeled in front of the pooch. "Welcome to the family, pup." The dog looked up at Boston and then reached out to lick the side of her face. Her laughter filled the room and Mac had to bite back his smile._

_It wasn't that he didn't like the puppy. It was just that he'd wanted a dog. A full-grown, already trained, older, mellow dog who wouldn't piss all over their new carpets. He wanted a sturdy, proven family dog that would let Claire pull on his ears and protect the family from intruders. He'd wanted a man's best friend, a dog to take jogging and one who'd lay out on the balcony beside Mac while he nursed a cold beer after a long day at work. Basically, he wanted the dog version of himself._

_Instead, he was getting a six month old Alaskan Husky with paws bigger than Claire's head. The dog was going to be huge, no doubt about it. Sure, he'd passed the family test, but he seemed a little too hyper for Mac's liking. He was the dog version of Gabe._

_But his hands were tied. He couldn't go back on his promise to Gabe. So, he reluctantly followed the employee out to file the paperwork making the adoption official._

_Maybe he could still sway Gabe when it came to choosing a name. Something heroic and strong and manly. Like Sniper. Or Marine. Or AK-47. Or Hooch._

_ ----------_

_"Honey Bear!" Mac roared. "He named the dog Honey Bear!" Boston looked up from her book as soon as Mac slammed their bedroom door. "How am I supposed to go running with a dog named Honey Bear!"_

_Boston didn't say anything. Instead, she raised her book to hide her face and then broke out into giggles. After thirty seconds, she cleared her throat gaining her composure, and lowered the book to reveal a sympathetic look. "I know how disappointed you must be – "_

_Mac turned away from her when a smile broke out on her face and started to undress._

"_Mac." Her tone was serious yet gentle now. "Really, I know how much you were looking forward to this dog. But it's Gabe's dog."_

"_I know who's dog it is, Boston," Mac snapped as he threw his shirt in the hamper._

"_Really? Because if I didn't know you better, I'd think maybe you were a little jealous."_

"_Of my own son? Please."_

"_I know you never had a dog as a kid."_

_Mac turned around, clad only in his boxers, and focused on his wife. "What's that have to do with anything?"_

_She sat up a little, pushing her pillows until they propped her head. "Well, you never got to choose your dog. Or name it. You probablywoulda picked a golden retriever, one who'd play fetch with you and sit next to you while you read. You woulda named it something masculine, like AK-47." She laughed at the thought and Mac turned back around towards his dresser. She knew him way too well. "But, babe, it's Gabe's dog."_

"_I know," he mumbled as he pulled off his boxers, replacing them with a fresh pair._

"_Mackie and Honey Bear, two peas in a pod."_

"_Boston!"_

_----------_

_Two days later, after watching _Monsters, Inc._ three times in a row, and much prompting from Mac, Gabe changed Honey Bear's name to Sully. Now, that was the name of a dog Mac could take running._

* * *

Boston didn't turn bother turning around when she heard the sliding glass door open, then shut. "He out for the count?"

Mac nodded and added a "Yeah" as he skirted around Boston, taking his seat beside her.

"So is Claire. I gave her another bottle, so keep your fingers crossed, but she should be good for a while." Swinging her legs over, she laid them, not so delicately, in Mac's lap and gave an exaggerated, "I'm tired."

"You had a long day," Mac nodded, running his hand up one of her bare legs.

Silently he began to kneed the muscles, letting his hands work up to the hem of her shorts and then wander back down to the arch of her feet. Except for the blissful sounds that escaped from her lips, they were both quiet, enjoying the rare alone time. Finally, Mac broke the silence with a hushed, "You looked good out there today."

Boston mumbled half-heartedly, "Thanks," and wiggled the toes of her neglected foot.

Mac smirked but went to work on the foot. "I'm serious, Bos. It reminded me of our early days. I'd watch you play and try to stop myself from thinking how gorgeous you were."

"Oh, the good ole days."

"The good ole days?" Mac questioned. "That happened today, too. I had to stop myself from focusing on how hot you are and pay attention to what an awesome player you are."

"Stop, Mac." Boston tried to yank her legs away, but Mac's grip was far too strong.

"Stop what?"

"I know you're my husband and all, but really, I don't need you to sugar coat it for me. I need you to be honest with me."

"Boston, I am being honest with you. You're hot." He was genuinely confused. He thought Boston had a bangin' body. Sure, she'd put on some weight while carrying Claire and while she'd been running and doing yoga, she still had a ways to go to losing it all. But, Mac liked her new body. It was curvier, with softer features and was more attuned to the type of body he found attractive on a woman. And while he wanted her to be healthy and happy with her looks, he secretly hoped she wouldn't lose the last twenty pounds and would keep some of the meat on her bones.

"Stop calling me hot," Boston said with a wrinkled brow.

Mac laughed. "Why?"

"It freaks me out." Mac gave her a questioning look. "You're Mac Taylor," she elaborated. "You're not supposed to say people are hot."

Shaking his head in disbelief, Mac tugged on her arms until she moved and straddled his lap. "I'm not saying _people_ are hot." He cupped her face between both of his hands. "I'm saying _you_ are hot." He pressed a kiss to her awaiting lips when she started to argue. After several minutes, he slid his tongue up to her earlobe and pressed a kiss just on the underside of her ear. "You are so fucking hot," he murmured.

With both hands planted squarely on his chest, Boston pushed away from him, looking at him as if she'd just seen him in a whole new light. An awed expression danced over her features, her eyes wide in astonishment and a small smile playing on her lips. "What?" Mac asked with a smile.

"I've never...I've...ummm...I have never heard you talk dirty before," Boston stammered.

"You like it?"

She answered with a nod.

"Seeing you on the field today, running and sweating, god Bos, I was so turned on." Mac ran his hands over her back and applied kisses to her face, neck, collarbone, anywhere he had access. Moving his hands south, he roughly squeezed her ass. "Your ass was barely covered in those slutty little shorts of yours." Her breathing hitched at his words and she dug her fingers into his shoulder. "And don't even get me started on your tits." He rolled her breasts in his hands more forcefully than normally. "I couldn't keep my eyes off you." He pulled her in for a forceful kiss and then said, "All I could think about was how much I wanted to fuck you."

Her breathing was rushed, her face flushed, but Boston managed to say the one thing that sent Mac over the edge, "Well, what's stopping you now?"

* * *

Later that night, as they lay on the floor just inside of the balcony, not having ever made it to their bedroom, running his hands through Boston's hair, Mac couldn't help but think that she was being uncharacteristically quiet. Maybe he had overstepped a boundary. The sex hadn't been rough per se, but he wouldn't call what they'd just done making love either. It had been fast and in the rush, he'd been so consumed by his own lustful feelings that he hadn't paid much attention to her. He wasn't even sure if she'd been satisfied.

Before he could dwell too much on the issue, he felt Boston press a kiss onto his bare chest. She murmured, "I knew you always had a thing for the shorts."

As he watched her shimmy her way up his body until she could plant a kiss on his lips, he felt the cool, early spring breeze drift in through the still open balcony door.

April was definitely his favorite month.

* * *

A/N: Please, please, please review this chapter. I want to know what you guys thought of the flashbacks. It's kinda different and I'm not sure what I think about them. So, please tell what you think – good or bad. Thanks so much.


	40. Cha, Cha, Changes

A/N: Just to refresh your memory, Mac's dad's name is Will Taylor in this story and Craig is Danny and Lindsey son.

* * *

It never ceased to amaze Boston how a few things that seemed so imperfect could combine to make something so truly perfect. It happened with Mac. He was almost twenty years her senior. Strike one. He was a widower. Strike two. He was furiously dedicated to his work. Strike – well that really wasn't much of a strike in Boston's mind, but it certainly did make things complicated when his work schedule collided with the family's schedule. Three things that normally would have had Boston fleeing for the hills, combined to make the perfect man for her.

The same went for the Taylors' new home. It was a brownstone. Strike one. It was in Brooklyn. Strike two. It wasn't in Manhattan. Strike three. It was a brownstone in Brooklyn. Strike four, five and six. While Boston had been more than willing to overlook the simple house, Mac had been persistent.

The walls were dirty from months of being vacant. The hard wood floors chipped and scarred. The stairs creaked. The water dripped. The ceiling sagged. It was apparent to Boston from the first step in, that the place was one rusty nail short of being condemned. But Mac had insisted on taking a full tour and letting the realtor seduce him with phrases like "a project for the whole family" and "the charming squeaks add personality." Yeah, because there's nothing more charming than faulty wiring.

Boston had hated it, Mac had loved, so they crossed it off their list and kept on looking for a house they could both love as their new home.

In the end, as most things in life do, it had come down to money. The "shit hole in Brooklyn," as Boston affectionately called it, was the only place big enough and still within their price range. Five bedrooms, two and half baths, large kitchen, and a twenty foot by twenty foot backyard all for well under market value.

_This place is a diamond in the rough,_ Mac had claimed. _It just needs a firm hand and a woman's touch to spruce it up_.

Boston had responded with a firm, _Shut the fuck up about that damn shit hole in Brooklyn._

Three weeks later they moved in.

* * *

Boston hated being wrong. Especially when it meant that Mac was right. But she was more than willing to look over this minor character flaw, and admit that the "shit hole Brooklyn" had slowly turned in the home that she envisioned spending the rest of her life with Mac.

A good washing and a fresh coat of warm colored paint had done wonders for the walls. A clear coat of cherry varnish had reenergized the floors. And a few tweaks of a wrench had stopped all dripping.

Although, it hadn't all been smooth sailing. Half the paint had wound up on Claire. Gabe's shoes got stuck in the floor varnish. And the first go round, Mac had tweaked the wrench the wrong way , ending up with a mouth full of brown water.

But it was these memories that Boston now realized turned a house into a home. It wasn't the floor plan or what borough you lived in. It was the pencil marks recording Gabe's height in the cabinet. The memory of Claire crawling on the kitchen floor for the first time, the dog playfully chasing her. Remembering Mac's expression when she'd smeared a paintbrush full of pink paint all over his face.

The house could easily be over looked by the throngs of people who drove past it every day. It was just another brownstone in just another neighborhood in Brooklyn. Nobody knew of all the laughter and joy and love that existed within its charming walls.

It hadn't been love at first sight, Boston mused, but it hadn't been that way with Mac, either. Its basic elements sure as hell weren't perfect and. But combined, they created something quite extraordinary.

* * *

Mac grumbled as he rummaged through his toolbox. He had seven different Philip screwdrivers, but couldn't find a flathead to save his life.

Three hammers, two saws, six wrenches, twenty-eight boxes of nails. No flathead screwdrivers.

Five minutes later, he triumphantly pulled out the desired screwdriver. Slamming his toolbox shut, he made a silent vow to unpack and organize his tools the following weekend. He carefully slipped the screwdriver under the lid of the paint can, forcing it open. He dipped the brand new paintbrush into the can, slathering it with crisp, white paint, before brushing it on one of the wood planks laid out before him.

There was always something about the steady, mechanical movements of a paintbrush mixed with the bitter smell of paint that never failed to remind Mac of his father.

The last summer he'd spent at home, after his college graduation and before he shipped off to basic training, his mother had gone on a decorating kick. She'd received a J.C. Penny's catalog in the mail one day, spent all afternoon flipping through and circling pieces she liked with a red Sharpie. That night at supper, she'd announced that the seventies had been over for four years and it was about time that the Taylor residence caught up with times. So, Mac had spent his summer of freedom painting walls, pulling out the plush carpeting, and rearranging furniture with his father while his mother stood back and pointed where she wanted the new ottomans and couches.

Despite all his bitching and moaning, Mac didn't really mind those days much. The days were spent with his dad, listening to his father's booming voice as they discussed the Cubs' odds for entering the playoffs or the upcoming election and whether or not Reagan would win a second term in office.

But it was the nights that Mac cherished most. He and his dad would sit outside letting the breeze cool their skin and silently watch as the sun slipped beyond the horizon. And as the sky grew darker, his dad's mood grew lighter, his stories spilling from his mouth with ease. How he and his older brother snuck swigs of whiskey in the protection of a giant oak tree, the fear of being caught almost as intoxicating as the liquor. How he'd pick up shifts at the lumber yard two towns over to earn enough money to go to the Cineplex and watch propaganda films about the war over in Europe and the rise of Adolf Hitler. How he and his brother enlisted in the army on December 9th, 1941, two days after Pearl Harbor was bombed. How they both came back: him on his feet, his brother in a casket. He never talked about his actual time in war, and Mac never asked. It was their unspoken rule.

Mac would sit quietly, talking in all that his father was offering with an obvious awe. Sometime after the light of the moon had finally started to shine over their porch, the new girl from down the street would come skipping over and plop unabashedly down right next to Mac's chair.

At that time, she'd just been Claire Conrad, the annoying new neighbor, searching for summer friends to fill her days before she moved to New York to attend NYU. It wasn't until much later that Mac learned that just weeks prior to the start of summer, she'd given Reed up for adoption. She'd covered her pain with a smile and found an eager companion in Will Taylor and a resentful one in Mac. Unlike Mac, who was afraid to ask his dad many questions fearing that with unwarranted questions the stories would end, Claire peppered Will with question after question.

They'd sit and chat for a while before Will would stretch his arms out with a fake yawn, saying his goodbyes and shuffling back into the house, leaving Claire and Mac alone. As the summer evolved, so did Mac's feelings about this alone time with Claire. He hated it at first, hated the rapidness of her speech, the way she used so many words to say nothing at all, her speeches about the wonders of Walter Mondale and how much she loved some TV show that Mac couldn't have cared less about.

The turning point had come mid-June. It was closing in on ten o'clock one night, and Claire had yet to show up to his porch. Half the time Mac wasn't even listening to her endless chatter, choosing instead to go over the periodic table of elements or find constellations in the night sky. But now that her voice wasn't wafting through the air, it suddenly felt eerily quiet. And Mac felt lonely.

After stewing for an hour, he'd finally huffed the three doors down to her house and gave a rapid series of knocks. Her mother had answered with an irritated expression and explained that Claire was out on a date with Tommy Newfield. Mac had returned home and took post on the porch waiting for her to return, growing more irate as the hands of the clock grew closer to twelve.

A young, impressionable girl like her shouldn't be out all alone this time of night in a new city. He didn't care that Claire was only four years younger than he, or that she was in fact from Chicago, just a different neighborhood, or that Tommy Newfield was one of his closest childhood friends.

When he finally saw Tommy's beat up pickup truck come to a halt outside Claire's house at ten after midnight and Claire slide out of the cab, Mac shot up in anger. He closed the distance between their houses in a record time, catching her before she went in.

"Where were you?" he asked hotly.

Claire turned around to face him with an amused look on her face. "On a date."

Mac took a minute to glower at her. She was standing on the bottom step, him on the sidewalk below, so they were eye to eye. She had on short-shorts, black sandals, and a Cubs tee. Simple, but she looked good. Too good for Tommy. "What are you wearing?" he snapped.

She shrugged, and looked down at herself. "They're called Daisy Dukes," she explained.

"I know what they're called. Why are you wearing them?"

For the first time a flicker of annoyance flashed over her features. "Because it's hot and we went down to the lake."

"You shouldn't be wandering off with strange boys until the middle of the night. You should go with someone responsible."

"Like who?" she snapped.

"Like me," he shouted.

Claire laughed aloud and said cheekily, "Well, you never asked me." She hadn't wait for his response, just turned on her heel and climbed up the remaining steps.

"Goddamn it, Claire Conrad!" Mac hollered when her fingertips encircled the doorknob. "Will you go out with me?" he practically yelled at her.

She grinned, "Well, since you put it so nicely, how could I refuse?" With a glance back towards him, she walked into her house.

Mac had stood outside her house for a full minute before he let out a laugh and turned back down the street.

The summer of paint, that's what Claire had called that summer because Mac always smelled like paint. That was the last summer he'd ever spent with his father. For the next four summers he'd been stationed at various Marine bases around the world. The summer after that he'd been honorably discharged, married Claire, and moved to New York. His father died that next May, three days before Memorial Day, three days before the unofficial start of summer.

A door slamming shut jarred Mac from his thoughts.

"I'm ready!" Gabe's cheerful glided across the backyard.

Mac looked up to see skipping him skipping across the grass. Wearing one of Mac's old NYPD shirts that dragged on the ground behind him and his plastic tool belt, with matching hammer and, ironically enough, flathead screwdriver, cinched around his waist.

"Ready to do some painting?" Mac asked when Gabe got closer.

He handed Gabe a brush and proceeded to teach his son how to paint, just the way his dad had taught him.

* * *

"How's Danny holding up?...Is Flack with him...Yeah, I know what he's going through…I have no idea. Lindsey's her best friend…I'll be in as soon as I can, but right now Boston's my priority…Thanks Hawkes." Mac slammed his phone shut. Propping his elbows on his knees, he reached up to rub his temples.

How was he supposed to break the news to Boston? He couldn't even begin to count how many times he'd had to knock on someone's door and let them know that their friend/child/parent/spouse was dead. It never got easier, but over the years, he'd perfected the consoling look, gentle voice, and soothing comfort. But how was he expected to look in his wife's eyes and tell her that she'd never get to chat with, laugh with, or go shopping with her best friend?

He was in the middle of debating how best to break the news to Boston, when her heard her key slide into the deadbolt.

"Hey, babe," she called, walking into the living room. "Why's it smell like paint? Where's Gabe?"

Mac reached for Claire, giving her a kiss on the forehead before propping her on his hip. "Boston, we need to talk," Mac said gently.

"Yeah, we do. So, I went to that school down the street to check out their pre-K program. It seemed really great – "

"Boston."

" – But I think you should check it out before we put Claire on the list – "

"Boston."

"Can you believe we're already looking into schools for her and she's only six months old? It's so absurd – "

"Boston!"

"What?!"

"Sit down. We need to talk," he said quietly.

He could practically see the wheels churning in her head, no doubt, coming up with every horrendous scenario for why he'd just uttered the phrase _We need to talk._ Worry etched on her face as she set down Claire's baby bag and shoved her hands in her pockets.

With a shake of the head, she straightened her back slightly, an unconscious sign of her defiance. "No. I'll stand."

"Okay," Mac nodded. He was quiet, figuring how to phrase the next words out of his mouth, knowing that they would devastate Boston. "Early this morning there was an accident."

"An accident? Is Gabe alright?" Boston repeated.

"Yes. He's fine, I'm fine, but Lindsey – "

"Lindsey was in an accident?" Mac cleared his throat and set Claire down in her bouncy swing. He was stalling for time and he knew it, but he was also okay with it. "Well, is she okay?" Boston snapped, clearly irritated at Mac's hesitation.

"No, she's not okay. I'm sorry."

Boston shook her head rapidly, "I don't understand."

"She was at the Central Park stable. She was riding a horse and fell off, hit her head on a rock. She died instantly. Didn't feel anything." He eyed Boston carefully, looking for any sign for how she was taking the news.

She started pacing in front of the couch. "I don't…She's my…She wasn't mur – …Accident…Oh, God."

Her breathing was coming in rapid puffs and Mac was sure she was going to start hyperventilating. "I know how you're feeling, but you need to calm down. Deep breathes."

Ignoring Mac, she continued to walk circles. "How's Danny? And Craig? Oh, God, Craig. How's Danny gonna be able to take care of him alone? Who's planning the funeral? Has anyone called her parents? And – "

"Boston," Mac interjected. Reaching out, he grabbed her by her shoulders to stop her pacing. "Take a minute for yourself. Calm down"

"Don't tell me what to do." She shook her head, but stopped talking for half a minute. Suddenly, her hand flew up to clamp over her mouth and she bolted out of Mac's arm, toward the bathroom. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

* * *

A/N: I just want to let all the loyal readers know that I am still fully dedicated to this story and am going to make a conscientious effort to update on a regular basis (probably every one to two weeks). I do feel really terrible about the lack of updates this summer. And thanks to iheartcsinewyork for the encouragement.


	41. Goodbye

"_I can't believe how clumsy I am," Boston heard someone mumble as she pushed open the bathroom door. She could see a short, brown-haired girl, scrubbing the front of her dress with a wet paper towel._

_"You know," Boston said with a smirk, "in some cultures talking to yourself makes you seem crazy."_

_The girl, Linda or Leslie maybe, looked up with watery eyes. "I just bought this dress especially for this social and look," she gestured widely toward a red stain, "it's completely ruined!"_

_Boston shrugged and reached into her clutch to pull out her lip gloss. "I spilled ketchup down the front of my prom dress last year."_

_The girl looked back up at Boston and let out a laugh. "How'd you do that?"_

_"Eating a hotdog."_

_"Why were you eating a hotdog in your prom dress?"_

_Smacking her lips twice, Boston ran a hand over her hair to smooth any flyaways. "I really like hotdogs."_

_That got a laugh out of the girl, who stuck out her hand. "I'm Lindsey, by the way. Lindsey Monroe."_

_Boston smiled and shook her hand. "Boston Waters."_

_"Is that your real – "_

_"Yep."_

_"You get that a lot?"_

_"Yep."_

_"Is it annoying?"_

_"Yep."_

_They both turned towards the door when a chipper voice came over the loudspeaker asking for all the girls to congregant in the main dining room. Lindsey glanced at her dress once more in the mirror. "I guess that's the best it's gonna get."_

_Boston pierced her lips in contemplation. The girl seemed nice enough and different from the rest of pledges she'd met so far. Plus, if they were going to be sorority sisters she might as well make an awesome first impression._

"_Here," she pinched the brooch off of her own dress and handed it over to Lindsey. "This should hide the stain."_

"_Oh, no," Lindsey shook her head and waved her hands in a _no _gesture. "I couldn't possibly…It looks so old."_

"_It was my great-great grandmother's. She personally got it as a gift from Abraham Lincoln just days before he was assassinated."_

_Lindsey's eyes shot up in awe. "Really?"_

"_No," Boston laughed. "I got it last week at Target. But the first story sounds so much cooler."_

"_So, what have you heard about the Tri Delts?" Pinning the brooch to her dress, Lindsey changed topics as they stepped out of the bathroom._

_Boston shrugged. "Not much really. I did hear that their super loyal. Once you're in, you're in for life."_

"_I heard that too. They're like the mob."_

"_We're sisters _forever_," Boston added in a spooky, high-pitched voice._

_Lindsey matched the voice, "And ever."_

* * *

Boston ran her fingers over the cool metal of the brooch, the same one she'd lent Lindsey that night. It been buried in the bottom of her jewelry box for years, covered by necklaces, bracelets, and rings, but it seemed like an appropriate day to dust it off.

She took a deep, not-so-calming breath as she pinned the brooch to the left breast of her dark blue sweater. Years ago, after an officer had been killed in the line with the Bozeman P.D.'s office, Lindsey and Boston had sworn that they'd never wear black to a funeral. Lindsey had attended the fallen officer's funeral and commented on how unnerving the sea of black had been. So, they'd agreed that whichever one of them kicked the bucket first, the other would not wear black at the funeral. Midnight blue, yes. Deep purple, sure. Hell, even a rich burgundy was okay. But never the gloomy tone of black.

Boston hadn't given that stupid pact a second thought after the two had made it. They had made a million of those childish deals. No wearing black at the other's funeral. No commenting on the other's love for chocolate. No rehashing drunken escapades in the presence of parents or professors. No letting the other do five shots of Jägger and go home with the bartender.

But as she was flipping through her closet, hurriedly trying to pack, Boston had been reminded of the pact. In truth, she'd never imagined that Lindsey would be the first go, leaving her left standing alone. She thought that they'd still be friends well into their eighties, living next door to each other, sitting in rocking chairs, telling their grandchildren about their crazy college shenanigans. And yet, there she'd found herself, standing in the middle of closet, realizing she couldn't wear black to her best friend's funeral.

That had been three days ago.

Now she was sitting on the edge of a Queen sized motel bed, running her hands over her skirt, smoothing out the wrinkles. A pair of Mac's dress socks lay beside her and Boston felt her heart clench at the sight of them.

Mac had been great through the whole thing, always knowing what to say and do. He'd held her while she sobbed, nodding as she mumbled incoherent phrases. He'd booked the flight and motel and asked Peyton if Gabe could come. He'd ran errands with Lindsey's dad, her mom to overcome with grief to leave the house. But, most importantly, he always seemed to know what Boston needed, even before she.

He was worried about her, Boston knew. It was in the way he watched her every move with a worried look. More than once, Boston had caught him staring at her from across the room. He didn't bother looking away, much too confident in their relationship to break the contact, instead choosing to meet her gaze head on with a concerned expression, silently asking if she was okay. At night he'd slide in behind her, pulling her close to him, and whisper _Wanna talk?_ And he never objected when she returned with a quiet _No._

It's not that Boston didn't want to open up to Mac, because she did. It was that she couldn't. Whenever she went to tell him about all the pain she was feeling, she stopped herself. She knew that he'd be sympathetic. He'd listen quietly, nodding at all the right times, understanding fully what she was saying.

And that was why she couldn't talk to him: because he understood what loss felt like. He'd lost people and dealt with it on his own countless times before. Marine buddies, fellow cops, his dad, his wife. He knew, more than Boston could ever know, what it felt like to have someone you cared for ripped out of your life.

And that's what stopped her. How could she possibly open up to him about losing her friend when he'd lost so many people himself? It was true that Lindsey had been a big influential part in Boston's life, but at the end of the day, that didn't come anywhere close to the size of part that Claire or Will had played in Mac's. She wanted to talk to Mac, but she couldn't see how she could complain about losing a friend to a man that already lost so much. So, for now, she'd have to be okay with the only comfort she'd allow him to give her: holding her at night.

* * *

Boston flicked the edge of the note cards containing the eulogy that she'd prepared earlier. It was a good eulogy, Boston knew. It contained all the acceptable clichés: Lindsey was perfect; Lindsey could do no wrong; Lindsey was the best person the world knew. And sure, those statements all held some truth to them, but that was only one part of Lindsey. Without a second thought, Boston flipped her cards over. Lindsey deserved to have her whole her story told.

"I came here today prepared to tell you all how wonderful and nice and beautiful Lindsey was. But anyone who knew Lindsey, knew that there was more to her than that.

"She was stubborn. She would never let anything go and she always, _always_, had to be right. I swear that sometimes she liked to argue just to argue. She also had a temper. While it rarely roared its head, you had to watch out when it did. Because when Linds was pissed, she was _pissed. _And when you mixed her temper with her stubbornness and it was rarely a pretty sight. Believe me, I speak from experience.

"One time I made Linds so angry that she actually punched me in the mouth." Boston chuckled at the memory and heard a few giggles coming from the crowd, no doubt from her sorority sisters who had all been witness to the fight.

Pushing herself away from the podium, she took a deep, calming breath and looked through the crowd at Mac. He unabashedly met her eyes giving her the strength that she needed to go on.

Turning to her left, Boston looked at the large picture of Lindsey that was on display beside the casket. The picture had been taken only a few weeks ago at the house warming barbeque that Boston and Mac had thrown. Her short hair was ruffled where the breeze had tousled it and her smile was free and uninhibited. Her eyes were locked just off camera, clearly sharing an inside joke with the cameraman. And from the love that was unmistakably shining in her eyes, it was evident that Danny had been behind the camera.

Returning her attention to the audience, Boston took a step closer to the podium. "She never apologized for punching me. If she were here today, she'd tell you all that I deserved it. For good or bad, once Linds made a decision, she stuck by it. Not to say that she didn't have any regrets, but she accepted her bad decisions with the same unapologetic grace as she accepted her good ones. And, in all honesty, I did deserve it."

Boston let her eyes drift towards the photo again. "Lindsey," she whispered. "You can have Justin. I'll stick with Joey."

* * *

_"You bitch!" Lindsey screamed. "You knew that I liked him."_

_"Whoa, Linds, calm down. You're acting psycho. And for the record, you have never once mentioned that you had a thing for him," Boston retorted loudly._

_"What the fuck! I always talk about him."_

_"Name one instance when you have."_

_"I talk about him all the time. Just this morning I talked to Bridget about how hot he is."_

_"Well, I'm not Bridget and I have never heard you talk about him."_

_"You're a home wrecker!" Lindsey yelled._

_"Fuck you." Boston took a step closer to Lindsey. "You're just jealous because he'd like me more." Boston barely had time to register what was happening before she felt Lindsey's fist collide with her mouth. Boston and Lindsey both stood, wide-eyed, processing what had just happened._

_"Ladies," Monica, the sorority president came running in. "What's with the yelling…and the blood coming from Boston's mouth?"_

_The question jolted both of them from the daze._

_Boston was the first to talk. "Psycho bitch over there hit me the mouth. With a closed fist. She went all Tonya Harding on me."_

_Lindsey shook her head. "She deserved it. She was all up in my face."_

_A group of their sorority sisters was beginning to gather around Boston and Lindsey. "Are you okay, Boston?" one of them asked._

_"Just peachy, expect for my open head wound," she gestured widely to her mouth._

_"Please," Lindsey groaned. "It's barely bleeding."_

_Boston sent a glare in her direction. "That doesn't make violence okay."_

_"Okay," Monica stepped between the two girls. "What were you two fighting about?"_

_"She said that she had dibs on Justin Timberlake," Lindsey gestured towards Boston. "But she knows that he is my favorite member of 'NSYNC."_

_"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize that you got first choice," Boston yelled._

_"See how she's acting," Lindsey looked at Monica. "She's crazy."_

_Boston's eyes bulged. "You're the one that hit me in the mouth."_

_"Ladies! Are you really fighting over members of a boyband?" Snickers could be heard in the group. Neither Lindsey nor Boston answered. "Well, then, try and keep you voices down and the punches to a minimum."_

_The room was almost completely empty before Lindsey spoke. Turning to Boston with a smirk, "You can totally have Joey."_

_"Gee, thanks. No one likes Joey."_

_"Exactly. You two would be perfect for each other."_

_"Geez…your kindness never ceases to amaze me," Boston laughed. "It's why we're going to be friends forever."_

_"And ever."_

* * *

"The way that I see it, I owe the life that I have now all to Lindsey. She convinced me to move to New York. She introduced me to my husband and then convinced my husband to date me. Nobody knows this, not even my husband, but I almost didn't move to New York."

--

_"So, I got offered a job in New York."_

_"No way! That's awesome. Where at?"_

_"An Ellis Island Museum. It'd be a huge promotion."_

_"That's really great, B. I'm so proud of you."_

_Boston laughed. "That's kinda cheesy, Linds. Plus, I'm not ever sure I'm gonna take it."_

"_Why not?" Lindsey sighed. We always talked about living in the city together. Partying it up like the girls of _Sex and the City._"_

"_I know we talked about it, but I never actually thought we'd do it. And know I'm too scared." Boston let out an easy laugh._

"_Of what?"_

"_Of being mugged, duh."_

"_You're not going to get mugged, idiot."_

"_Lindsey!" Boston screeched. "You've told me out all the murders you've investigated. According to your stories I can't even go to the zoo without worrying about being killed."_

"_I'm gonna ignore that and choose not to make fun of you," Lindsey said. "Seriously though, I know what a big leap it is to move to New York, but I really think you'd like it here. We got a million soccer teams, hot men, great shoe stores."_

"_So, it's heaven?"_

_Lindsey laughed, "As close to heaven as either of us are going to get."_

"_I'm not sure. A guy from Smithsonian has also been hitting me up. And it would be pretty cool to work there. I don't know."_

_Lindsey's voice was sympathetic, "Well, you know where I stand on the matter, but you know we'll be best friends no matter where we live."_

"_Yeah," Boston agreed. "Anyway, I didn't call you to talk about the job."_

"_So, then why did you call?"_

"_Cole and I got into a big fight this morning. He said that I was pushing him away, not letting him into, and I quote, _my shell_. Can you believe that?" Boston scoffed._

"_Well…" Lindsey trailed off._

"_Why'd you hesitate?"_

"_I didn't hesitate."_

"_Yes, you completely did. You don't agree with him." Boston was met with silence. "Lindsey!"_

"_I'm sorry!" Lindsey shouted. "It's just…sometimes you…"_

"_Sometimes I what?"_

"_You don't…You don't like to burden other people with your problems or you don't think others will understand. So, you just don't let other people in."_

"_I…" Boston started to huff, then stopped herself. "Well, I'm still gonna be made Cole for a day or two because he yelled at me."_

"_What does Cole think about you possibly moving to New York?"_

"_I haven't told him. I don't think we'd last if we tried to do the whole long distance thing."_

"_If you did move here, I totally wanna set you up with your boss."_

"_Your boss? Isn't he an old widower?"_

_Lindsey laughed. "Well, he is older and he's a widower, but I wouldn't describe him as an old widower. He's actually pretty attractive."_

"_Well, then you go out with him."_

"_Sorry, I'm already taken."_

"_Oh, Danny, he's so dreamy," Boston cooed in a high, teenage voice._

"_Okay, let's get back onto the topic of you dating my boss."_

"_I'm not gonna date him. I prefer men who don't need to take Viagra to get himself going and then won't have a croak while doin' the deed."_

"_He's not eighty!" Lindsey objected. "He's in his mid, late forties. He exercises, like, every day. And I really don't think he has trouble, you know, getting himself up and at 'em. He's had a couple of girlfriends before."_

"_Well, if he's the pimp you say he is, why does he need you to set him up?"_

"_I'm not pimping him out. I just think that you two would really connect."_

"_How so?"_

"_Well, Mac's always been a little closed off and I think you could help open him up. And I think he could provide you the comfort and security that I think you ultimately desire."_

"_Hmmm…" Boston mumbled. "I'll think about New York first and decide the rest later."_

"_That's all I'm asking."_

"_Oh, hey look, Lindsey, Cole's here and he has flowers and Godiva chocolates. I guess I'll take him back"_

"_Oh, well, the best laid plans..."_

_Boston laughed. "Yeah. I'll talk to you later. Give Danny my best."_

"_Tell Cole that I think you'd be better with Mac."_

_"Yeah, I'll be sure to do that, Linds."_

_"Seriously, B., think about Mac. I think you guys could go the distance."_

_"We'll be together forever," Boston chirped in a high voice._

_"And ever."_

_"Until he dies of a heart attack while we're having sex."_

* * *

"Lindsey was my best friend. And I know that world will be a sadder place without her. She left behind a son, a husband, family, and friends, and a void that can never be filled. But we will go on living, because that's what Lindsey would have wanted. She wouldn't have wanted for our world to stop. I'm sure of that.

"She would have wanted us to laugh when remembering her, not to cry. Remember both the good and bad times. And most of all, to tell her son all about his mom. It's up to us as a whole to let Lindsey's memory survive within Craig. He'll never remember her, but with all us, he will certainly know her.

"So, here's to Lindsey. For the laughs and the memories. She's probably already taken over Heaven. The place will be micromanaged by the time we all get up there."

Boston stepped away from the microphone. "We'll be friends forever." Instead of hearing _And ever_, this time she only heard silence.


	42. Lines Drawn

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Mac leaned back in his chair and pushed the papers in front of him away. He'd been reading the same paragraph for twenty minutes and still had no idea what it was about. His mind was elsewhere, it had been for weeks now, and it was clear that it was starting to affect his work.

Taking a deep breath, he reached for the small square picture frame that perched on the edge of his desk. Boston's smile beamed back at him from behind the glass. It had been taken on their wedding day and the shot was a close-up of Boston that displayed her veil and a broad grin. When he'd seen the black-and-white shot in the midst of a stack of pictures, he'd slyly stolen the photo, purchased a sleek, classic black frame, and placed it in the corner of his desk where it could only be seen from the perch of his chair. Usually when he looked at the picture, a sense of calm would wash over him. This time, however, it wasn't calm that Mac felt come over him.

The three weeks since Lindsey's passing had been trying on Mac. The crime lab was bogged down with more cases than the short staffed lab could handle. Not only were they down one CSI, but Danny had been practically AWOL since the funeral. And to top it all off, Boston was acting like nothing had happened, as if her best friend had not just passed away.

Sighing, Mac gave Boston's photo one last glance before gently setting the frame back in its proper place. He had just picked up the piece of a paper that he had earlier been studying, when his phone rang. _Chief Sinclair_, the caller ID read.

_Fuckin' fantastic,_ Mac thought as he pressed the send button. "Chief Sinclair."

_"Mac." _Sinclair cut straight to the point, _"Have you gotten a chance to look at those resumes my office sent over?"_

"I was actually just looking at them." Mac shuffled the papers on his desk before he found the manila folder holding the half dozen resume and job applications that had been curried over to the lad three days ago.

_"Listen, Mac, I know your lab has been through a lot with the passing of Messer and all. But the sooner you hire a new CSI, the sooner you can solve those thirty-three homicides that are currently turning cold."_

Mac didn't need to be reminded how many unsolved cases they had. All thirty-three files were currently stacked on his desk, just waiting to be pored over. He knew they were short-staffed and desperately in need of help. He knew they needed to get those cases solved, to provide justice to the victims, closure to the families, and safety to the city. But he also knew hiring Lindsey's replacement was, well just plain hard. Really hard.

Over the last three weeks he'd been so concerned with helping everyone deal with their own emotions that he hadn't taken a chance to grieve for his own loss. Lindsey had been his friend, too. She'd confided in him about the tragic murder of her friends, the loss of her father at a young age, and her conflicted feelings about her and Danny's office romance. Mac had found her enthusiasm for the job to be contagious and he'd grown comfortable with their mentor/student relationship. Once he and Boston had begun dating, he and Lindsey had only gotten closer.

While Mac would never underestimate the role Lindsey placed in Boston's life, she had also played a role in Mac's and his loss was just as devastating. But he'd been too busy within the last three weeks playing Super Mac that he had not had time to come to grips with his own feelings.

_"Taylor!"_ Chief Sinclair's harsh shout jerked Mac from his thoughts

Jerking up, he tried to play it cool. "Yeah, I'll give the resumes a look over. I need more time though."

_"You haven't even looked at them, have you?" _Silence filled both sides of the phone. A moment later Sinclair sighed. _"One week, Taylor. If you haven't found someone by then, I will make the decision for you."_

As if to emphasize his point, Sinclair promptly hung up.

Clicking his phone off, Mac stole a glance at the clock. _7:42_. If he left right now, he could still make it home in tome to spend a few minutes with Claire before she went to bed. He didn't stop and think about it, just started grabbing the thirty-three case files located on his desk. He'd go home, put Claire to bed, relax with Boston for a little while, and then he'd look over the case files.

He'd made it to his office door before doubling back to his desk. Sinclair's words rattled in his head as he grabbed the resumes, shoving them deep in his briefcase.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

"Here, Bos."

Thanks." Boston took the glass of iced tea from Mac, watching as he slid the screen glass door shut and walked over to the porch swing she was currently plopped in. Once Mac was seated on next to her, Boston pulled her feet under her and leaned into him. Mac threw an arm over her shoulder.

"Comfy?"

Boston nodded, "Very."

Mac wished he could just live in this moment forever. The sound of Claire's even breathing drifting from the nearby baby monitor. The cool, gentle breeze ruffling Boston's hair. Her hand absentmindedly tracing lazy circled on his blue jean clad thigh. But he knew he'd have to break the trance. "Bos?"

"Hmm?"

"We need to talk."

"We need to talk? Are you going to break up with me?"

"I'm serious." With those words, Boston pushed herself away in order to get a better look at Mac's face. "I don't want you seeing Danny alone anymore."

Arching her eyebrow, Boston pulled even more away. "Excuse me?"

_Well this getting off to an excellent start, Taylor._

It wasn't anything against Boston. His request had more to do with the fact that he didn't like how Danny was dealing with Lindsey's death and he didn't want Boston sinking with that ship. Boston had grown distant and quiet since they'd returned from the funeral. She'd lost the chipperness in her voice and refused to open up to Mac. He'd tried not to push, just being there, steady as a rock, for when she did want to open up. But it seemed like she wasn't interested in that.

But she didn't seem to be having a problem opening up to Danny. He knew he'd been stopping over at his apartment almost every day. Twice he'd heard her talking to him on the phone. He didn't think anything romantic was going on. He trusted Boston. But it did sting knowing that his wife was opening up to another man. It was like she didn't trust him with her feelings. And in Mac's point of view, they had been through too much for her to be pushing him away.

"I'd rather that you not meet up with Danny alone," Mac repeated in a gentle tone.

"This isn't 1952, Mac. I'm your wife, not your slave. You can't tell me what to do," Boston shouted.

Mac kept his voice even. "I'm not telling you what to do. There's a lot of stuff going on that you don't know about. And…I just don't want to have to worry about you being around him."

"You don't need to worry about me! You should be worrying about Danny. His wife just died and nobody's there for him. You haven't called him. Flack hasn't talked to him in days. And – "

"Flack hasn't talked to Danny in days because the last time they saw each other, Danny punched him. And just for the record, I call Danny every day. He's the one that won't pick up." Mac took a deep breath, trying to calm the anger he felt rising in his chest. "He's not dealing with it. He barely comes into work and when he does, he reeks of alcohol. And I don't trust him to be alone with you. He's too unpredictable right now."

"His wife just fuckin' died. You don't – " her voice trailed off.

"I don't understand?" Mac finished for her. "I _do_ understand. And he is not dealing with Lindsey's death."

"You're such a hypercritic," Boston yelled. "I've heard about the stories about you after Claire's death. You never going home, practically living at the lab, shutting people out. You didn't date for, like, four years."

"I'm not saying I handled it perfectly. But I also didn't have a child. And I never got violent with anyone."

A long, tense silence built between them. When Boston did break it, her voice was eerily low. "If I want to see him, I will."

Nodding his head slowly, Mach pushed up from the swing. "Fine. But you won't take Claire. And you better think long and hard before you do see him. Because once you cross that line, there's no going back."


	43. Moving On

Boston knew she shouldn't be here. She'd known it this morning when she'd laced up her sneakers and planned her day. She'd known it when she'd dropped Claire off at daycare, telling the workers she'd be back at 3, just before Mac's shift ended. She'd known it five minutes ago when she'd handed the cabbie a twenty and a quick _thanks_.

She knew she shouldn't be here. Mac had asked her outright not to come here. He'd never done that before. Normally, he was content to let her live as she wished, no matter how crazy he thought her choices were. But not this time. This time he'd come right out and told her not to see Danny. She should have enough respect for her husband to do this one thing.

She knew she shouldn't be here. And yet here she stood.

* * *

Mac didn't want to be here. He had half a dozen reports piled on his desk waiting for his approval, a budget to create before next week's budget meeting, and hundreds of pieces of evidence that needed to be processed from the three new cases they'd caught this week. He didn't have time for this.

Clenching his jaw, he pushed the lobby door open, nodding toward the security guard. He wasn't even sure why he was here. It was clear Danny didn't want his help. Danny didn't seem to want anyone's help. But Boston's words kept echoing in his head, _You're a hypocrite._

Any maybe he was. He knew what Danny was feeling. The anger. The heartache. The sheer terror. He knew what it was like to have people pity you, saying empty condolences while secretly being overjoyed that it hadn't happened to them, that their loved one was safe at home. He knew what it was like when the time came when people felt like you'd been pitied enough and thought it was time for you to move on and get over the fact that your whole world had collapsed leaving you pinned underneath the grief. He knew what it was like the first time you laughed again; the first time a pretty girl caught your eye; the first time _she_ wasn't on your mind first thing in the morning; the first time you loved someone else, and held someone else, and made plans with someone else; the first time you realized life would move on again, and it would be okay without _her_.

Mac knew. And that's why he was here, pushing the elevator button that would take him to Danny's apartment.

* * *

Boston pushed the button brightly labeled _lobby_ once. Twice. Five times. She _had_ to get out of here. She never should have been here in the first place. She shouldn't have betrayed Mac.

* * *

Mac watched as the elevator lights lit up, indicating that the elevator was making its way from the eighth floor down to the lobby to pick him up. Finally, the doors opened with a _ding_. A woman practically ran out, colliding with Mac. He gripped her arms, stopping her fall. As he righted them both up, he took a look at the woman.

"Boston?"

She looked up at him with wide eyes. He could already see the tears welling up in her eyes as he pushed her away. "I swear that I did not go in." She was breathing deeply and Mac could tell that she was trying hard to cry. "I swear I didn't. I swear." She'd lost the battle; tears started flowing down her cheeks. Her voice cracked with her next words, "Please don't leave me. Please don't leave. I swear."

"Boston." Mac gripped her arms and gently pulled her into a vacant corner, away from the curious eyes of the security guard. "I'm not leaving you," he said firmly.

"But you're mad, I can tell."

Mac nodded, "Yes, I am." And he had the right to be. He had come right out and asked Boston not to see Danny. And yet here she was, coming out of the elevator at Danny's apartment building. But deep inside, he knew she hadn't seen Danny. Boston had never lied to him yet, and from the desperation in her voice, he knew she wasn't starting now. "But I'm not leaving."

He thought those would reassure her, but they only seemed to make her cry harder. Pulling her close to him, half to comfort her and half to quiet her sobs, he ran a hand through her hair. He could hear her mumble, _I'm so sorry_ over and over. Her _I'm so sorry_ slowly turned into _I miss my friend_. Mac just hugged her tighter.

He was still mad, but there was something so heartbreaking and vulnerable about Boston at that moment. Her walls were finally cracking and she was letting him in.

* * *

"One hot dog. Extra mustard. Hold the onions."

Boston looked up, squinting in the sun, a small smile planted on her lips as she took the hot dog from Mac. She took a huge bite as Mac sunk to his knees on the grass beside her.

"We're going to have to get those pants dry-cleaned now," Boston said, her mouth still half full, as she eyed Mac's dress pants.

"It's worth it," he said quietly.

"Yeah," Boston smiled. "I guess it is."

They ate in silence for a few minutes, just enjoying the soft breeze and each other's company. "We should bring Claire and Gabe here for a picnic," Boston said looking around at the families and couples that were scattered on the grass of Central Park, enjoying a mild summer day.

"Yeah." Mac crumpled his hotdog wrapper in his hand and took a swig of soda. "Thanks for opening up to me."

Boston nodded and looked away. "I should have done it sooner."

"Hey." Mac waited until she looked at him before continuing. "People grieve in their own ways, Bos. You're doing just fine."

"But you're the one I'm supposed to confide in. Ya know? You're the one person that I should be able to talk to about anything."

Mac tucked a stray piece of her hair behind her ear. "Then why didn't you?"

"Promise you won't get mad?"

Mac paused. "I'll try not to get mad."

"Fair enough." Boston took a deep breath, steeling herself. "You're…black and white. Things are either right or wrong with you. Good or evil…You're always so sure of yourself and where you stand. And that's not bad, because it's such a part of who you are, but…But, I'm not like that. I'm messy. And my feelings are messy. Sometimes I don't even know what I'm feeling. I just…I didn't want you to judge me." Mac was silent. "You're mad."

"No."

"Yes, you are," Boston said, lying back on the grass.

"I'm not, Bos. I'm sad. That you think I'll judge you." He leaned back on his side next to Boston, propping himself on his elbow and cupping her cheek. "I love you. I like that you're messy. And I'll try to stop being so…un-messy."

Boston laughed, "Clean?"

"Yeah," Mac smiled. "I'll try and be less clean, more dirty." Boston punched him in the arm as he lowered his lips to hers.

Once they'd broken apart, Boston rubbed her lips together. "I wanna just clarify one thing." Mac raised his eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. "It wasn't that I wanted to open up to Danny. It's just…Lindsey was my best friend and she wouldn't have wanted this. Danny's falling apart and he's not there for Craig…I feel like I need to help Danny. I owe that much to Lindsey…But, I don't think Danny wants my help."

Mac frowned. Wasn't that exactly what he'd been thinking earlier? And yet, somehow it sounded different coming from Boston. It made Mac think; maybe he hadn't tried hard enough to help Danny.

* * *

Mac felt a sense of déjà vu wash over him as he pushed up the lobby door and nodded at the security guard. He stepped into the elevator, and pushed the _eight._ He'd left Boston thirty minutes without telling her he was coming here. To be honest, thirty minutes ago, he even he hadn't known he was coming here. He'd been halfway back to the lab, before he'd taken an unexpected right turn that took directly to Danny's.

Standing outside Danny's apartment door, Mac hesitated for a split second before firmly knocking on the door. He wasn't surprised that it took Danny a full minute to answer the door. It didn't surprise him that Danny's beard was grown out, his shirt wrinkled, and his hair obviously uncombed. It didn't surprise him to see stacks of mail, half-empty to-go containers, and kids toys piled on all available surfaces.

Mac didn't wait for a greeting before pushing his way pass Danny. "Where's Craig?" he asked, giving the place a closer look.

"What are doing here?" Danny mumbled.

Mac pressed his lips together as he looked at Danny. "Where's Craig?" Mac asked with a firm look in his eye.

Danny hesitated a moment, before slumping down in a nearby chair. "At the babysitters."

"Good."

"Why are you here?"

Mac absentmindedly threw an empty beer bottle into a wastebasket. He was stalling, and he knew it. Finally, he looked at Danny, this time with calmer eyes. "Because I know what it's like."

* * *

"Boston!" Mac called from the foyer. "I'm home."

"Mac?" he heard her call from the kitchen. "What are doing home? It's only 3:30. Did something happen – " her voice trailed off when she entered the entryway. "Hey, Craig." She smiled at the small boy before giving Mac a quizzical look.

"Craig's gonna stay with us for a few days," Mac offered.

"I brought my crayons," Craig added, holding up his Spider-Man backpack.

Boston smiled, "Awesome. Let's go put your stuff in Gabe's room."

"Neat," Craig said as he ran in the general direction of Gabe's room.

"Where's Danny?" Boston whispered under her breath.

"He needs a little time to pull himself together. He said something about going on a road trip on his motorcycle."

"For how long?"

"A week. Two maybe. Are you mad? Should I have asked first?"

"No, it's fine. Two weeks might be rough on Craig."

Mac nodded. "I thought that too. At first Danny was going to have Craig stay with his parents, but they're both older and there are no younger kids in their family. At least here, there's Gabe and Claire, and you here all day. And he's a lot more comfortable with us."

"Nemo!" They walked into Gabe's room just in time to see Craig hurl himself onto Gabe's Nemo beanbag chair.

"You wanna know what will make me mad, though?" Boston mumbled under her breath.

"What?" Mac whispered?"

"If I have to watch that stupid _Nemo_ movie again."


	44. Full Circle

Three months later

* * *

Mac fumbled in the darkness for the light switch, relying on his knowledge of his home to guide him in the dark. He hissed a quiet _Fuck!_ as his foot collided with a toy. Something small, pointy, and undeniably Gabe's. He'd told that kid at least three times a day to pick up his toys, but it never ceased to fail that one or two would be left deserted along the baseboards.

Triumphantly, Mac switched the kitchen light on, squinting from the sudden flood of light. As he prepared the coffee, he tried to be quiet, courteous of his wife and daughter still sleeping peacefully upstairs.

He flipped through the mail stacked on the adjacent counter while he waited for the coffee to brew. After determining that it was mostly bills and junk, he set it back down and turned his attention to the smiled as he read the date. _August 16__th__. _A bright red heart outlined the date.

It was their one-year wedding anniversary. He and Boston had made it through the most difficult but most wonderful year of marriage. They created new life, said goodbye to old friends, went down to dowels of hell only to climb out stronger.

Pouring the fresh coffee into a cup, he made his way out to back porch and settled into a chair. The last three months had flown by. Danny had returned from his trip refreshed. Mac knew that Danny was still mourning his loss, but he was also trying to be a good father, and that was all any of them could them could ask of him. Boston had taken a job teaching history at NYU. Claire had taken her first steps. Stella and Flack found out that they were expecting a baby of their own. And Mac was enjoying watching it all from the sidelines.

It had been a good three months, and Mac couldn't wait for to see what the future held. For the first time in a long time, he and Boston were in a good, solid place. He knew that this was just the first anniversary of many between the two of them.

He smiled as he heard the door swing open behind him.

"Hey, babe. Claire wanted to see her daddy."

_Yep,_ Mac thought_, it was going to be a good day._

* * *

So, this is it. I hope you guys liked it. I think Mac and Boston, at this point in their lives, have run their course. I am thinking of writing a sequel set ten or so years in the future with a cool twist, so drop me a line if you think I should work on that. Thanks for everyone who has reviewed over the nearly two years (wow!) that this story has been around. It's been fun.


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